


both versions of her

by herwhiteknight



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, i just love ilia with all my gay lill soul, pls trust that the bees are endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 62,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27021667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herwhiteknight/pseuds/herwhiteknight
Summary: Yang, dealing with old demons and past regrets, starts her first year of college hoping for a fresh start. Settling into a new routine takes some time, some adjustments, but things get easier when she makes new friends, joins up with the local queer club on campus and finds her rhythm.But then her decision to sign up forHermes, a penpal service that pairs users up anonymously, changes everything when she matches with a mysterious user that she knows only as Iris.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Ilia Amitola & Blake Belladonna, Ilia Amitola/Blake Belladonna, Ilia Amitola/Weiss Schnee/Pyrrha Nikos, Lie Ren/Nora Valkyrie, Pyrrha Nikos/Weiss Schnee, Robyn Hill/Fiona Thyme, Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long
Comments: 41
Kudos: 96
Collections: Bumbleby Big Bang 2020





	1. sapphically inclined

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there friends! I hope you enjoy my fic for the Bumbleby Big Bang! It was an absolutely wild rollercoaster, I don't think I've written so much in such a short amount of time since the last time I participated in NaNo. It's been crazy. But i'm extremely proud of this piece, I had a lot of joys while working on it for sure. I'm honestly indescribably happy (and exhausted) right now. But the journey has been worth it. I hope you will find it such as well! 
> 
> I also got to work with my friend Sami for this project, and she drew an accompanying title page for my fic! <3 Check that out below!
> 
> https://perimorp.tumblr.com/post/634330653245259776/okayyy-heres-what-i-did-for-the-bumblebybigbang
> 
> And, if you're curious, here's the playlist::
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3lZCuGO3IZ7WiYfCwCQ89G?si=Wmh2rEoATXS-ywEzhSInEg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang gets her first taste of college life. And it's apparently _way_ more gay than she'd ever imagined.

“Yang! Hurry up and get down the stairs, your father and I have a surprise for you before your first big day!” Summer called up the stairs, catching Ruby’s shoulder as she attempted to dart past. “Would you please get your sister down here? She doesn’t want to be late for her first day at university, now does she?”

“She’ll think it’ll be _so cool_ to show up late for orientation,” Ruby rolled her eyes but nodded and pounded up the stairs, hammering on Yang’s door at the top of the landing. “Yang! Mom says she’s got a surprise for you but you gotta come down now before you’re late!”

“Okay, okay sis,” Yang laughed from inside her room. “Coming,” she said, opening the door and revealing Yang standing there with her hair in a ponytail and dressed in tan cargo pants and a yellow plaid button-up.

“What, not gonna dress up for your first day?” Ruby teased, poking her side, frowning when she was met with resistance, forgetting momentarily that Yang had been keeping up with her training over the summer break.

Yang ruffled Ruby’s hair in response, grinning. “Nah,” she said, slipping past Ruby on her way down the stairs. “This has been my dream for the past _ever_ , you know? I’m not looking to catch anyone’s eye.”

“Not like you’ll have to try very hard anyway,” Ruby grumbled, folding her arms as she watched Yang lace up her Doc Martens. “What _is it_ with lesbians and their horrible fashion sense that _somehow_ is still attractive to other lesbians? Is it like, a signal or something?”

“Oh, Ruby,” Yang sighed, chuckling. “Maybe you’ll understand someday. Maybe you won't! All you need to know is that sure works when it works,” she finished with a wink as she swiped her leather jacket from where it was draped across the bannister just as her father appeared from the kitchen.

“Ah, finally! The beast rises from her lair,” Tai proclaimed dramatically with outstretched arms. Summer slipped in behind him with a small shake of her head and a bemused smile as she tucked herself in against his back. “We were beginning to wonder if you’d been cursed into an eternal sleep.”

“Very funny, Dad,” Yang rolled her eyes, pushing at his shoulder playfully. “What was this about a surprise?”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” he gestured eagerly at the two of them, sweeping his other arm over Summer’s shoulder and guiding them all out the front door. “Well, since your dear old Dad is tired of you taking his beloved steed every single time you wanted to impress those girls at your old school...” he said, then finished with a flourish, “Ta da!”

Yang stopped short just at the top of the driveway, gaping. Standing proud in the middle of the driveway was a magnificent yellow and black motorcycle, the shiny chrome detailing glinting in the early morning sunlight. “Holy _shit_ Dad!” Yang breathed, taking a step towards it and reaching out in disbelief, before turning back to her parents as they stood side by side, grinning.

“You like it?” Summer asked, leaning into Taiyang’s side.

Yang’s mouth hung open, breath stolen. “ _Like it?!_ Are... are you _kidding_?!”

“That’s _Yang’s_?!” Ruby’s eyes grew wide as saucers as she grabbed at Yang’s shoulders and peered around her, nearly sending the two of them toppling over.

“Mhmm,” Tai nodded, unable to contain his excitement, “Hey, why don't you try it out? Go on – have a seat!”

“This is really for _me_?” Yang still could hardly believe it – she'd talked about it all summer, all of her time in high school, really, but…

“Your father and I wanted to give you a present for getting into Beacon,” Summer said, watching Yang run her fingers over the padded leather seat, “We know how hard you worked these past few years to stay at the top of your classes so you could get into your dream school and we’re both so proud of you for getting in.”

“And on a scholarship too!” Tai added, a note of pride swelling in his words, bringing a couple of tears to his eyes.

“Aw, c’mon dad.” Yang rushed over and gave him a quick hug. “You should be proud of yourself too, you know! If it hadn’t been for you, I never would’ve picked up kickboxing in the first place, and, well, look where I am now, right?”

“I’m sorry,” he thumbed away the small tears at the corner of his eyes before clapping Yang on the shoulder, “I’m just so proud! You’ve just been so strong since the accident, you know?”

Yang smiled a little sadly, unconsciously taking her prosthetic into her other hand, running a thumb over the joints and rigid grooves in the hi-tech material. “Yeah,” she murmured quietly, opening and closing a fist as a flash of pain from four years ago made its impression at the corners of her mind once again. “I owe so much to you both,” she said, glancing at Summer, feeling an understanding pass between them. She remembered being so angry for so many years after losing her arm. After losing her mother. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you. Either of you,” she amended as Summer reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Well, you won't be getting any farther without this,” Summer said, smiling as she held out a bright yellow helmet, custom monogrammed with an emblem of a clenched fist surrounded by flames. 

“No _way_ ,” Yang gaped yet again, taking the helmet and tracing her fingers over the decal. “You guys actually did it!”

“We thought it would be a nice way to honor your mother's memory, right dear?” Summer said, turning to Tai. 

“Since you’ve kept her name with you while fighting in the ring, we figured it would be important for you to show up at Beacon with that Branwen Brawler decal - just to remind them who they gave that scholarship to!” Tai grinned, taking it from her and slipping the full helmet over her head, letting the straps hang around her neck for her to adjust.

“Fits perfectly,” Yang said, palming both sides of the helmet and wiggling it slightly so it sat comfortably around her ears and cheeks before snapping the chin strap in place and tugging it tight.

“Now go on!” Tai nodded, pressing the keys into her waiting hand. “We don’t want to make you more late than you already are, do we?”

Yang glanced at her watch, her heart lurching slightly as she caught the time. “Uh, _shit,_ yeah, I gotta go! Bye mom, dad, Rubes! Love you!”

“Don’t speed!” Ruby shouted at her as Yang revved the engine.

“That’s rich coming from you!” Yang called as she backed out of the driveway, flicking them a quick salute before tearing out of the neighbourhood. How her sister ever managed to get her licence, Yang would never know.

  
  


The bike felt _great_ as it hummed beneath her. Yang wasn’t ever one of _those_ people to talk about the _purr_ or the _growl_ of the engine, as if it was some beast that she’d caged, but she wasn’t going to deny the power. And, yeah, the pure sex appeal she’d exude when rolling up to Beacon. It was part of the reason why she’d begged her dad to let her learn on his bike in the first place - there was something so _dominating_ about taking something away from cocky asshole dudes and reclaiming it in such a way that just screamed _Miss Steal Yo Girl_. 

Not that hoping to land a college sweetheart was high on her list of things to do during the next four years of academia. She’d been telling Ruby the truth when she said she wasn’t looking to impress - but if someone happened across her path in the upcoming years? She certainly wouldn’t object to _that_.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” a delicate feminine voice knocked Yang out of her thoughts.

“Huh?” she asked eloquently, realizing in her absent pondering that she had parked her bike and had just about kicked this tall red-headed woman in the shins as she had swung her leg to disembark. “Oh, _shit_ , no that’s entirely my fault, I wasn’t paying attention!”

The woman laughed as Yang nudged her kickstand down before coming to stand beside her on the sidewalk. And realizing a split second too late that this woman was at least half a head taller than her - and with Yang herself already edging just over six feet… 

She felt herself get a little weak at the knees - what was that thing she’d said to Ruby earlier?

 _Fuck_.

She covered her pretty little smile as her laughter died off - even the way she lifted her hand to her lips was graceful. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“Oh, yep - not a scratch!” Yang laughed nervously, trying to avoid her piercing green eyes - which were even prettier than her smile.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” she said, regarding Yang for a long moment in silence as Yang _struggled_. Breathing. She knew how to do that. “I’m Pyrrha, by the way.” She held out her hand for Yang to shake.

A handshake. That was _also_ something Yang knew how to do. So she did. She took Pyrrha's hand - inwardly screaming about _soft_ and _warm_ \- and shook it, smiling dumbly. 

Another long moment of silence. "And who is it that I have the pleasure of meeting?" Pyrrha asked, a mischievous spark glittering in her eyes. Apparently it seemed that she was used to having a certain effect on people.

“Yang,” Yang finally blurted out. It didn’t help that Pyrrha was still holding her hand. 

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you around before,” Pyrrha said, finally letting go. Yang felt a distinct wave of relief at the prospect of breathing properly once again. “Is this your first year?”

Yang blinked in surprise. “I thought Beacon was supposed to be a big university.” _That’s what the pamphlets said, at least._

“Oh, it is,” Pyrrha answered smoothly. _Everything_ about her was smooth. Yang blankly found herself wondering what her skincare routine was. “I’m part of several clubs on campus here, however. And I specifically volunteered to help show the new students around campus after their orientation-”

“ _Fuck!_ ” Yang exclaimed loudly, feeling her heart slam into her ribcage with a jolt. “Shit, that’s right, I - _orientation_! Fuck, I gotta go!” Her feet had taken off on her before she even got a chance to finish her panicked explivities, sending her careening onto a school campus of which she had _no_ idea where anything was. 

She absolutely should go back to Pyrrha. She would know which way the gym was. But Yang had already fled from her like a mansplainer flees from an intelligent woman, so she _definitely_ couldn’t go back there. 

With her feet still charging ahead a mile a minute and running on residual adrenaline, she picked the nearest hallway that looked Important, flew around the corner-

-and plowed headlong into a dark and totally _solid_ object.

“What the _fu_ -”

The next thing Yang knew, she was on the ground, completely out of breath and staring at the sexiest pair of black combat boots she had _ever_ seen. 

“You really should watch where you’re going,” a voice above the boots drawled, unimpressed. Yang’s eyes panned upwards, taking in a girl with dark hair and an expression that was as dangerous - and attractive - as her boots were.

She hadn’t even seemed _phased_ by Yang’s accidental football tackle. _It was the power of those boots_ , Yang decided inwardly, shaking off the stars as she stood slowly, lifting herself off the ground with a low grunt. “I - right,” Yang scratched her head awkwardly, kicking her toe into the carpet. “I was just…”

The girl lifted an eyebrow, somehow managing to look _down_ on Yang despite being several inches shorter. It was those damn boots. “Making a complete fool of yourself?”

“No!” Yang shot back defensively. “I was _trying_ not to be late, if you must know.”

A look of curiosity crossed her face. “You’re headed to the assembly then?”

"Yeah," Yang said, her head _finally_ clearing after that totally embarrassing wipe out. "Uh, you too?"

"Yes," she replied, turning on the heel of those magnificent boots and striding away.

Yang blinked. _Wait, what?_ Then lifted her hand as she jogged to catch up. "Hey, you mind if I walk with you?" She tapped on her shoulder, causing the girl to pull up. _Boy_ , did she look unimpressed. "It's just that, well… you seem to know the way and I have no clue what's going on-"

"Evidently," she replied dryly, dragging her gaze slowly up Yang's form before meeting Yang's eyes once more.

Okay, she'd been caught off-guard once when she literally ran into this girl, she could at least _try_ to redeem herself. "So…," she prompted awkwardly. _Yes, perfect. Ten out of ten_ , Yang rolled her eyes inwardly at herself.

Sexy Boots eventually let out a long sigh and rolled her eyes before nodding. "Sure," she agreed after a long moment.

Yang inwardly fist-pumped as they turned together and walked side by side. That brief triumph quickly turned into a growing awkwardness as the girl refused to initiate conversation. _She had seemed perfectly fine with starting the conversation by roasting my ass…_ “So, uh… what’s your name?” she tried, as bright and as friendly as she could manage with someone as closed-off as this girl was. And, okay, someone as utterly and mind-bendingly _hot_ as her. Yang was surprised she was even managing sentences right now.

The girl let out a sharp, long sigh. A sigh that, to Yang, read _there’s obviously no getting rid of you, is there?_ Which, not a great start by any means. But she’d take it. “Blake,” Blake finally answered.

“Blake,” Yang muttered, casting a glance sideways over at her walking partner and just barely catching her profile through the dark curtain of long black hair that obscured her features. “That sure is fitting…”

“Right,” Blake said. Yang couldn’t see her face, but if there ever was a tone of voice that said _I just rolled my eyes_ then that was sure it. “And you are?”

Yang blinked for a second, a little shocked that she had even asked at all - though she guessed that it was entirely possible that being hot and mysterious didn’t also preclude her from being polite. “Yang!” she replied, recovering as she awkwardly stuck out her hand to her right as they rounded a corner.

Blake stopped dead and stared at her hand for a long moment. 

Yang continued to stand uncomfortably as Blake left her hanging. A swift moment of Gay Panic swept through her - _oh my god is she looking at my nails?!_ She was about to open her mouth and scream something about being sapphically inclined, when-

“Would you look at that. We’re here,” Blake said flatly, pointing over Yang’s shoulder at the entrance to the auditorium. 

Yang turned, shaking herself out of various fluttering thoughts about gay kinship, and set her eyes on the massive open space of a gymnasium. There were four different doors leading out of the main hallway that they now stood in, each of them an entrance to the tops of four different sections of the stands. Already, students were filing down into the bleachers from the hallway, creating small clusters near each door as those already inside picked out seats or sought out familiar faces.

“So…,” she started, belatedly realizing that she probably sounded like a broken record. “Should we-”

“ _Blake_?”

Just before Blake turned to locate the voice, her face paled considerably. Her shoulders _visibly_ tensed as she wrapped an arm around herself, gripping at her shoulder with a vicelike grip. “Ilia…,” she said quietly, finally turning.

Yang glanced over Blake’s shoulder, frowning a little to herself as she noted the drastic change in Blake’s demeanour. Not that Yang knew Blake at _all_ , but there was something about this newcomer that made her seem… _smaller_ somehow.

“Honestly, I never expected to see _you_ again,” a short girl with long, like _really_ long, dark red hair approached them. Ilia.

“I…,” Blake started, nervous. “It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

Something about the air felt smothering, like it’d been suddenly clogged with a kind of humidity that laid thick upon shoulders and was heavy to breathe in. Yang watched, uncomfortable, as Ilia folded her arms. Stared Blake down. Then she shook her head and let out a long sigh. “How have I been?” she asked incredulously. “I didn’t think you cared.”

“Ilia, that’s not true! I’ve always cared,” Blake said, taking a step closer to her. There was a barest shift backwards in Ilia’s posture, just the tinniest step away. Blake caught it anyway. She let out a sigh of her own, her hand balling into a fist at her side. “I _do_ care, it’s just… complicated.”

Finally, Ilia noticed Yang hovering awkwardly nearby. “Is there a problem, Goldilocks?” she sneered.

Yang winced, lifting a hand to defend herself - before Blake beat her to the punch. “Don’t worry about her,” Blake said abruptly, waving her hand dismissively in Yang's direction. “C’mon. Let’s go find somewhere to talk, alright?”

Ilia shot one last glare at Yang over Blake’s shoulder before nodding tersely. The pair of them turned, squeezed through the throng of students and disappeared. 

Yang scratched at the back of her neck and let out a long breath that she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “Well I would say that it was nice to meet you, but…,” she muttered to herself, trying to sort through everything that had occurred in such a few short minutes. Would university always be this insane?

“I see you managed to find your way here,” Pyrrha’s voice sounded from behind Yang, somehow clear as a bell despite the loud excited chatter that permeated the hallway from the other freshmen.

“I… yeah,” Yang laughed as Pyrrha walked up to her. Her lips stretched into a toothy, borderline discomforted smile as she tried her best to explain her panicked reaction. “Totally sorry I, like, took off on you like that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Oh, several things, I imagine,” Pyrrha smiled gently, but there was that damn spark in her eyes again. Yang was really starting to hate it. “Perhaps it was simply first day nervousness, hm?”

Yang seized the excuse - though she had a feeling that Pyrrha could see right through it. “ _Yes,_ ” Yang agreed emphatically. “That’s - yep. That’s exactly what it was. First day nerves. Uh huh.”

Pyrrha let out a light musical laugh, causing more than a few heads to turn and stare. Yang could _not_ blame them at all. “Well then, Yang,” she said, offering out her arm like some kind of prince attending a royal ball. “Would you like me to show you around for the day? And perhaps ease some of that anxiousness you’re feeling?”

Yang could do nothing but loop her arm around Pyrrha’s and allow herself to be guided along as she nodded dumbly. What kind of gay heaven did she somehow stumble into?

Orientation lasted for the better part of the morning - and _better_ meant that Yang spent several hours being gracefully swept along in Pyrrha’s presence as they toured the majority of the campus. Not that Yang could recall what they even saw or where anything was located. Guess she’d just have to ask Pyrrha for another tour later. Oh well.

“...the cafeteria,” Pyrrha said, her voice dragging Yang out of her vague daydreams. She blinked at the large space, sweeping her gaze across what practically looked like a slightly smaller version of a mall food court.

“This place has _everything_!” Yang gaped, stunned. Her stomach started grumbling as her mouth watered. “Oh man… I’m gonna go so broke,” she bemoaned. 

Pyrrha led her down a short set of stairs that led down into the space where all the tables were gathered, presumably to keep them out of the way of the general flow of other student traffic. “The prices here are a little steep, unfortunately,” Pyrrha agreed, reaching into her bag and pulling out her wallet. “However, fortunately for you, this one’s my treat.”

“I - _what_?”

“See anything you like?” Pyrrha asked, making Yang’s jaw hang open even more than it already was. She had to be doing that _thing_ with her hips on purpose, there was _no way_ \- 

“Pyrrha dear, are you playing mind games with the new students again?”

Yang turned to find yet _another_ very pretty girl with startlingly white hair walking over to meet them at the foot of the stairs. “Is _every_ girl on this campus ridiculously gorgeous?!” Yang couldn’t help but blurt out as she watched the girl lean up on her tiptoes to kiss Pyrrha on the cheek. “And also apparently gay as fuck?”

That earned an unimpressed eye roll from the tiny one while Pyrrha just laughed. “Yang, this is Weiss, my girlfriend,” she gestured, sliding a comfortable arm around Weiss’ shoulders as she continued. “And to answer your question, no, not everyone here is gay. We just know how to find each other.”

“If you’re about to try recruiting her-” Weiss started, indignant.

Pyrrha overrode her quickly with a quick kiss to her hair - the amount of craning that she had to do with her neck could _not_ have been comfortable - and flashed Yang a winning smile. “I run an LBGT club here on campus, actually. If you would like to join us for lunch, I would love to tell you more about it.”

“Oh,” Yang started, giddy but trying her best to be super lowkey about it. “Only, like… if you and your girlfriend don’t mind the intrusion or anything…”

Weiss arched an eyebrow at her. Okay, failed lowkey step one. But Pyrrha just glanced over at her and gave her the most heart-melting pair of puppy dog eyes Yang had ever seen and, after a few seconds, she totally caved. “Yes, fine. Alright," she threw a resigned hand up in the air. Then she stuck her finger threateningly in Pyrrha's chest, and Yang swore she saw Pyrrha rock back slightly from the force of it. "But _you're_ paying, my dear."

"What's your fancy, Yang?" Pyrrha said.

" _Girls_ ," Yang said emphatically. Because she felt like she hadn't made _that_ clear enough this morning. Then immediately stuffed her foot in her mouth. "Oh, uh… you meant for lunch…."

"Well, no one said you couldn't eat-"

The resounding _smack_ of Weiss' hand over Pyrrha's mouth was loud enough to make Yang wince in sympathy. "Pyrrha, please," Weiss implored, clearly in pain. "Be proper for just a few minutes, would you?"

Pyrrha's mouth twisted in half agony, half amusement as she peeled Weiss' hand away. "Sorry, love," she said, just a little sheepish. "Though you can't deny that you love it."

Yang watched their interactions like a lesbian glued to a women's beach volleyball game. Which was _definitely_ something that Yang had done before. "I'm just suddenly very thirsty…," she mumbled to herself.

"I bet you are," Weiss grumbled, dodging from underneath Pyrrha's arms to escape further teasing.

"Come along, then," Pyrrha said, slipping her arm through Yang’s once more since Weiss had decided to be grumpy. "I'll introduce you to the campus favourite."

The campus favourite happened to be a small on-site restaurant and bar simply called _Towers._ Yang honestly had no clue why, but it sure sounded sleek. “So what’s so special about this place anyway?”

Pyrrha led her over to an open table in the corner of the restaurant section of the establishment. Yang glanced around, noting the bustling yet friendly atmosphere. The decor had a rustic sort of feeling to it, and sitting down at the lacquered wooden table only further enforced the feeling that they had been pulled into another world entirely. 

“You’ll see,” she replied simply, taking Weiss’ hand to mollify her as they sat across from Yang. 

With how crowded the place was amidst the lunchtime rush, Yang figured that it would take several minutes at best before anyone even approached them with waters and a menu. To her surprise, a short woman with fluffy white hair and an apron bearing a small logo of a tower crossed with two arrows walked up to them. Judging by the warm smiles exchanged between her and Yang’s new friends, they were all quite familiar with each other.

“New recruit?” the woman said as she dropped menus in front of them. Yang’s fingers itched with a distracting need to run her hands through the waitress' hair - it couldn’t have been as fluffy as it looked, could it? With all the bleach she would have to dump in her hair to make it _that_ white….

“We’re hoping so,” Pyrrha smiled, sliding another glance across the table at Yang.

“Do _not_ rope me into your scheming, Nikos!” Weiss harrumphed yet again, rolling her eyes. Yang stifled a snicker behind her menu, trying her best to seem innocent. 

“You’re lucky that she’s too nice to make you sleep on the couch,” the waitress - _Fiona,_ Yang read her nametag as she glanced over the top of her menu - tisked out a little warning. 

“I have… _other_ ways of punishing her,” Pyrrha said without missing a single beat. Yang nearly choked, her face burning like she’d been flung into the sun.

“Pyr-” Fiona started, seemingly stunned at Pyrrha’s bold words. Then she sighed, and turned to Yang as she shook her head sympathetically. “I’m very sorry about this one. But unfortunately, we sort of _have_ to pay attention to her - the fundraisers she does with _Inqueeries_ help keep this place running.”

Yang waved off her concern, dragging a hand down her flaming face in an effort to calm down. She looked at her watch - she’d been more gay in the four hours of being on this campus than she had been in probably her _entire life_. “I’m fine, really, it’s all good. So good,” she laughed awkwardly. “I’m just, y’know… really thirsty. Absolutely parched.”

“Yes, we’ve _heard_.” Yang shot a glare over at Weiss as Fiona seemed to magically produce a fresh glass of ice water out of thin air.

“Are you both just going to get the usual?” she asked as she set the water down in front of Yang. At their affirmative nods, she swept up their untouched menus, then glanced at Yang who was currently nose deep inside her glass, the heat from her flushed cheeks melting the ice cubes like global warming. “And for yourself?”

Yang resurfaced, trying not to sputter out a cough as she hastened to give an answer - despite the fact that she hadn’t even taken in a single word on the menu. “I… uh…,” she said, gaping like a fish. 

Weiss just let out a barely disguised noise of disgust as she pulled some napkins daintily from the napkin holder and tossed them vaguely in Yang’s direction. “She’ll just have the special for today, Fiona,” she said definitively.

Fiona nodded, took Yang’s menu out from under her without so much as a confirmation from her. “I’ll be back in a flash!” she said brightly, before adding with a wink, “And I’ll bring the form for our new friend here.”

 _Our?_ Yang blinked, slowly turning her gaze back towards Pyrrha and Weiss who were blinking at her in unison like owls. “Uh… she mentioned something about fundraisers?”

Pyrrha hummed, “Yes, that’s correct! This bar used to be - still is, mind you - the weekly meeting place for the LBGT club on campus here, the _Inqueeries_. As I recall, the manager had once joked that the monthly game night alone would bring in enough money to keep the lights on for the entire year. When I took over as president of the club last year, I simply took that challenge one step further.”

“And we’re very thankful for everything you do,” a new voice spoke up, cutting through the chatter of excited students easily despite its low timbre. 

Yang looked over as someone new approached their table. Then looked up. And looked up some more. If she thought that Pyrrha was tall… _fuck_. She buried her face in her hands, completely overwhelmed and ready to melt onto the floor in a gay puddle. “I can’t handle this,” she groaned, garbled and muffled.

“One of us?” came the guess from above. Yang thought she caught a dry note of bemusement. _Great. Now they were mocking her?_

“Fiona was about to bring her a form for her to fill out, yes,” she heard Pyrrha reply. _Traitor,_ Yang grumbled in her head. Though traitor to what, or to who, or to why, or to how… bah. They’d barely met not five hours ago and Yang was already wading tits deep in the rainbow.

She lifted her head just in time to catch Tall Lady arching an eyebrow. “Very impressive. You work fast,” she said, nodding in approval. 

Yang smacked herself inwardly, turning to a mantra that got her through certain gym locker moments. _Conceal, don’t feel, seriously do not feel…._

“My apologies,” she said, turning her full attention to Yang as she held out her hand in a hand shake. Yang’s eyes were drawn to the asymmetrical fingerless glove on her hand, and the way that it had two fingers cut from it - the index and the middle. “I haven’t introduced myself - my name is Robyn. I’m the manager of Towers.”

“I… yes, that’s me,” Yang stammered, taking Robyn’s hand carefully, like she was afraid it would snap shut on her like a bear trap. “I mean, uh… I’m yes…”

If Yang had been able to look anywhere but her hand clasped within Robyn’s, she would’ve definitely seen the way that Weiss and Pyrrha turned slowly to each other in complete and utter shell-shocked disbelief. One of them might have even muttered, _“Bitch what the fuck”_ with some amount of vehemence. Or that might’ve just been her own brain betraying her entirely.

“Gay!” she finally got out, like she’d been released from a chokehold. “I’m gay! Wait, shit no, that’s not - I mean, no it _is,_ but….”

Ten seconds passed, then fifteen. Robyn eventually, mercifully, decided to let Yang’s hand go just as Fiona came back with the form. She took a deep settling breath as Fiona handed the form to Robyn, deferring to the other woman. Yang would’ve found that interaction interesting if she wasn’t struggling to desperately save face. “My name’s Yang.”

“Finally,” Weiss muttered snidely. Pyrrha smacked her leg underneath the table and shot her a _look_ that shut her up real quick. 

“Well, Yang,” Robyn said, barely glancing at the form as she laid it casually down on the table beside Yang’s nearly empty water glass. “I imagine that we’ll be seeing you at the first _Inqueeries_ meeting later this week. Enjoy your meal. Please put their drinks on my tab, Fiona dear.”

Yang stared after them as they headed back behind the bar, completely flabbergasted. “What the _fuck_ just happened?”

“Oh trust me, Yang,” Pyrrha said, lifting her own glass of water to her lips and taking a sip. Weiss had a glass too. Where the fuck did _those_ come from? She shook her head, taking it as one of the _less_ weird things that had happened just recently. “This is all just the tip of the iceberg.”

Yang glanced down at the sign up sheet that Robyn had placed in front of her. It was fairly sparse in the information it asked for - simply a line for first and last name, a line for the program she was enrolled in, whether or not she was taking any other majors or minors, a line for her email and, at the very bottom a checkbox for - “Hermes? What’s this?”

Strangely enough, _Weiss_ lit up at the question. “Oh, _that_ ,” she said, sounding almost… gleeful? _Alright. Weird._ “That was actually an idea I had come up with at the start of the winter term last year.”

“And…?” Yang prompted, feeling like she was going to have to pry it out of her piece by piece.

Pyrrha took pity on Yang and spared her from Weiss’ plan for a dramatic reveal. Or whatever it was that she had been aiming for. “ _Hermes_ is a pen pal service that connects other members of the LBGT community with each other campus-wide. Pen pals can choose whether or not to remain anonymous amongst each other, but the main goal of this program was simply to foster connections within the community that otherwise wouldn’t likely exist.”

“Way to upstage me, _dearest_ ,” Weiss sniped, frostily.

Pyrrha looked only mildly apologetic as she wrapped her arm around Weiss’ shoulders, kissing the crown of her head. “Well, you _were_ most likely going to stretch out the explanation as long as possible, love…”

“Now, what’s _that_ supposed to mean?"

Yang tuned out the way they sassed at each other and quickly filled out the brief form. Her eyes drifted down to the bottom of the page, barely hesitating before ticking _yes_ on the box next to the interest check for _Hermes._


	2. Iris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang signs up for _Hermes_. And encounters a familiar face at the gym.

Yang walked into _Towers_ four days later. The past few days had been a whirlwind of syllabi, frantically scribbled reminders onto a sheet of paper that she would stuff into her backpack and almost forget about later and already losing track of which classes she had when. At least she had Ruby’s over-excited exuberance for a campus she wouldn’t even be attending for at least another two years to keep her new student career on course.

Mostly though, Yang missed Pyrrha and Weiss. It almost killed her to admit that she missed _Weiss_ of all people, but she had been a huge help in getting properly organized for her courseload. She couldn’t thank either of them enough - they’d only known each other for less than a week, and already they had been a tremendous lifeline in helping her get settled into a new routine. It _almost_ helped her not regret taking time off to travel - even though her parents had been fully supportive of her decision after she’d worked so hard on her recovery.

So stepping back into _Towers’_ familiar environment felt a little like coming back to a home she hadn’t quite settled into, but felt calming all the same. “Hey Robyn,” Yang said, sliding onto a barstool when she didn’t see either Weiss or Pyrrha. 

Robyn glanced over her shoulder, checking the clock hanging over the alcohol display cases. “You’re early,” she said, “Anything I can get for you?”

Yang eyed the selection, tempted for a moment. “I could go for a strawberry sunrise. Virgin,” she added. “I’m driving home after this.”

“Responsible, huh?” she arched her eyebrow, and Yang allowed herself a small moment of inward triumph when the expression barely made her stomach flop around like a useless fish.

Yang shrugged. “I have a younger sister. Trying to set a good example for the rascal, y’know?”

Robyn nodded approvingly, leaning down underneath the bar and pulling out a blender before turning to gather the rest of the ingredients as she replied, “She sounds like she'd be quite the spitfire. How old is she?”

“Seventeen,” Yang replied, then rolled her eyes. “Though, if she were here, she would prefer me to loudly say that she’ll be turning eighteen in just under two months.”

Robyn chuckled. “Kids. They’re always so excited to grow up without really knowing what that means.”

Yang shrugged a shoulder as she watched Robyn pour the blenderized fruit smoothie into a martini glass before sliding it across the bar to her. “Honestly, I’m twenty and I _still_ don’t really know what it means to be a grown up.” She took a sip of the drink. “Could I get one of those mini umbrellas for this?”

Robyn popped a small paper purple umbrella into the glass. "Growing up is overrated," she nodded sagely. "In fact, my wife and I have nerf battles every Friday night - loser does dishes for the next week."

"That doesn't sound like a bad way to settle disputes, actually," Pyrrha said as she settled next to Yang. 

" _You're_ only saying that because _you_ already have this customized nerf shield that you bought yourself for Christmas last year," Weiss harrumphed as she sat down beside her.

Pyrrha just rolled her eyes fondly, patting Weiss sympathetically on the hand as she turned to Yang. "So, Yang. Have you been settling in well enough?"

Yang lifted her shoulder in a shrug, trying to act casual to bury the fact that she still felt just the _slightest_ bit overwhelmed. “Sure. Totally not panicking about the fact that the syllabus for anatomy says that we _already_ have a quiz two weeks from now.”

“Your eye is twitching,” Weiss pointed out.

“Why don’t you help us get set up for the meeting?” Pyrrha offered, settling a comforting hand on her shoulder as she pulled out a notebook labelled _Inqueeries_. “The first meeting usually has a larger turn out, so we’ll need to pull a couple of tables together-”

“Yes! I can do that. Absolutely. Where do you need them?” Yang slid off her barstool with a bounce, turning around to down the last few gulps of her strawberry sunrise. The prospect of physical labour invigorated her - as she had yet been unable to take advantage of the gym and extensive weight room on campus due to her packed schedule. “Oh, uh,” she whirled back on Robyn, starting to fish through her bag for her wallet - it had to be buried under all these notes _somewhere_ ….

Robyn waved her off. “First one’s on the house. Consider it a _welcome to the club_ kind of thing.”

“Aw, nice. Gay rights!” she fist-pumped as she turned back to Weiss and Pyrrha as they started dragging tables together.

“Are we sure we want her?” Weiss rolled her eyes.

“Just look at her,” Pyrrha whispered as Yang single-handedly lifted a table and a stack of chairs all by herself. “She’s so eager.”

“Where do you guys want these?” she asked, readjusting her grip on the backs of the chairs without breaking a sweat. Pyrrha pointed to the other two tables that they’d already pushed together and Yang set them down with a thud before arranging the chairs around the table. “Anything else?”

“Oh, our banner! If you could set that up while Weiss and I set out the snacks, that would be perfect,” Pyrrha said, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a rolled up tube in a plastic sleeve. “Just hang it above the tables there.”

Yang gave Pyrrha a lazy two finger salute as she hopped up onto a chair closest to the wall and slid the banner out of its sleeve before carefully unrolling it. Bold black letters in a script style font bore the words “ _Welcome to the INQUEERIES”_ superimposed over a gradient background that seemed to represent the flags of many different sexualities and gender identities.

“Do you need help? I could grab the other - oh.” Yang turned to catch who was speaking and faltered a little. It was the girl from her first day on campus - not the one she literally football tackled, but the other one. “It’s you.”

Yang laughed nervously, her arms posed awkwardly above her head as she held up one end of the banner. “Yep, me… your friendly neighbourhood - uh, Goldilocks… or whatever.” The girl just sneered, her arms crossing impatiently. “You can just call me Yang though…”

The girl didn’t reply, only huffed out an annoyed sigh before climbing onto a chair on the other side of the table and grabbing the other end of the banner. “Well?” she finally said as she started to pull it tight.

“Right, yeah,” Yang said, readjusting her side of the banner as the shorter girl stretched to match up with her. She kept her in the corner of her eye as she tacked the banner into place on the wall with some putty adhesive that Weiss had given her.

“I can feel you staring,” the other girl said as she finished up and resumed her closed-off posture.

Yang shrugged, dropping down into the chair she had been standing on with a heavy thud. “Just trying to figure out what your deal is, honestly,” she said, patting the table between them, hoping she’d take a seat across from her.

She glanced over across the bar, watching people filter in for the meeting in pairs or groups or by themselves. She seemed to be looking for someone, a little bit of hope flashing through her eyes - before sighing heavily to herself. “Looks like you’re the only one here that I know. Guess I’m stuck.”

Yang laughed dryly, studying her as she sat down opposite. She had pale blue eyes that gazed out above a smattering of dark freckles that spread across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. _Cute_ , Yang found herself thinking. “Forming friendships out of obligation, an excellent start.”

“We’re not forming a _friendship_!” the other girl said indignantly.

“Only because you haven’t told me your name,” Yang pointed out, arching an eyebrow at her. She watched the freckles on the other girl’s face suddenly stand out in stark relief as her face turned pink. _So_ that’s _what it feels like to be on the other side of someone’s moment of gay panic. Interesting._

Eventually, the other girl’s blush faded as she dropped her arms down on the table in front of her, levelling Yang with a challenging glare. Yang bore the weight of that stare with an ease that bordered on indifference, waiting her out in silence. Finally, after another grumbled sigh, she caved. “I’m Ilia.”

“Friendship!” Yang crowed jubilantly, tossing out a finger gun in Ilia’s direction. Weiss, who was making the rounds to pass out sheets of paper to the members, gave her the single most exasperated expression that Yang had ever seen on a human as she set the pages down in front of them.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Ilia snarked, snatching up the paper and scanning it, obviously looking for a distraction. But that didn’t stop her from muttering to herself, “I’m only talking to you because there’s no one else here.”

“You were looking for your friend,” Yang guessed astutely, causing Ilia’s head to shoot up as a vague frown cornered her lips. “Blake,” she said after a pause, as if she had to think about it - when in reality, Blake’s face had occupied a fair number of her idle daydreams over the past four days. It wasn’t lost on Yang that idly daydreaming about a girl that she’d had interacted with a grand total of One Time was as _useless lesbian_ as it could truly get.

It was immediately clear to Yang by the way that Ilia’s whole body froze that she shouldn’t have brought it up. “It’s none of your business, honestly,” she growled, snatching up the paper and stuffing it into her backpack. She stood up and stalked off before Yang could even think to apologize - though for what, she wasn’t sure.

“What was all that about?” Pyrrha asked as she stopped by Yang’s table just before calling the meeting to order. Weiss, having finished passing out papers, turned to watch Ilia storm off, confusion creasing at her forehead.

“I honestly don’t know,” Yang shook her head, dropping her gaze to stare blankly at the form in front of her. The _Hermes_ signup sheet. The same form that Ilia had shoved into her bag before storming off. “But maybe I’ll find out.”

* * *

The moment that she had gotten the acceptance email from _Hermes_ a week later, Yang had practically thrown herself at her computer to fully complete her profile. 

_Welcome to Hermes,_ the email read. _Once you complete your user profile, including your username and a short biography of yourself, you’ll be able to specify a few things about your correspondent that you would prefer to be matched with._

“Sounds more like finding a date than a penpal to me,” Yang muttered to herself, scrolling through the text further before clicking over to her profile page.

The menus for both sexual and gender identity, Yang noted appreciatively, were extensive and allowed for more than one choice. She filled those out quickly - _lesbian, demisexual, demigirl_ \- before moving onto her username and bio. 

_It is highly encouraged to use an alias that is different from your real name. You may wish to reveal your identity to your partner through your emails, but to ensure privacy from the start, it is best to avoid revealing your identity on the public portion of this platform,_ Yang read as she clicked the box to type in her name.

“A little weird. But understandable,” Yang thought as she sat back to consider a username that she would be known by to other people online. She could picture Weiss being absolutely militant over being as secure and private as possible. 

The cursor blinked in front of her as she contemplated for another few moments. Then - _alittlesunny_ . Checked the availability. Which was, unfortunately, a hard nope. Well, she wasn’t giving _that_ handle up, so numbers it would have to be. She ended up going back to her roots of being a little - okay, _a lot_ \- nerdy during her old flip phone texting days. Entered: _alittlesunny143._

Accepted. 

“Sweetness,” Yang grinned, only a little mortified at the throwback of the word that had escaped her mouth.

She moved onto her bio and typed out her alias, pronouns and age - _Sunny, she/her, 20_ \- as well as something that she thought sounded charming, before looking scrolling down to the part that asked her questions about the kinds of things she’d like in a conversation partner.

She was _seriously_ going to have to text Weiss and Pyrrha that their idea of a penpal service _really_ sounded more like a dating site. 

A quick glance through the topics of conversation she could pick from that she was interested in revealed nothing particularly enlightening. Yang shrugged to herself, selected _No Preference_ and clicked submit. "I'm just here to make friends," she muttered to herself as she set aside her laptop and looked at the pile of textbooks sitting on her desk. "And make it through this semester in one piece."

* * *

Classes weren’t _as_ bad as Yang had first thought they were, really. The adjustment period was the worst part, but she had a great support system to keep her going - both at home and the slowly developing one on campus. She had gotten Pyrrha’s number after that first _Inqueeries_ meeting - something that still made her heart flutter a little despite knowing that she had a girlfriend - and Weiss herself had aggressively sat her down after deciding that the only way to success was to colour code all of her binders according to what day of the week her courses fell on. Yang promptly forgot which colour belonged to which day, but that wasn’t something she was about to tell Weiss.

The biggest lifesaver however, was the on-campus gym and weights room. Once she’d gotten a routine down well enough, she found that she was able to get back into some workouts that almost resembled the ones she’d had during the summer - which had been extensive, even by her standards. It allowed her to clear her head and burn off excess energy that had previously kept her brain running in circles like an overactive hamster when she was trying to get some much needed sleep. 

Her first few workouts were simple, and allowed her to find her rhythm with her own circuit fairly undisturbed. Even the jock muscleheads quickly learned to leave her well enough alone after Yang made a point to deadlift an extra 25lbs above the limit of the biggest dudebro on the floor. It scared them all off - and after that, everyone knew not to bother her.

“Y’know, I don’t think you’ve been on that machine long enough, honestly.” 

Everyone except for Ilia. 

Yang paused in the middle of her set to pull an earbud out as she cracked an eye open. “Well, this _was_ my last set, but you’re so right. I could totally go for another ten sets _at least_ ,” she taunted back, resuming her lat pull downs. Ilia just folded her arms, a disapproving posture that Yang was quickly growing familiar with in the fair number of times their paths had crossed, and waited. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Yang said dismissively, “did you need to use this after me?”

“I don’t, actually,” she replied, leaning against the wall nearby - and it was only just then that Yang noticed that her wiry frame, clad in only a tank top that was carelessly cut into a crop top and loose basketball shorts, was glistening in post-work out sweat.

Yang had long since passed her usual number of reps for this exercise, but she’d be damned if she was going to take an _actual_ break in Ilia’s presence. Her shoulders were starting to scream at her though. “Just here to torture me, is that it?” she asked, somehow keeping the strain out of her voice successfully. She gave herself an internal pat on the back.

“I’m waiting for someone,” was all she gave.

Yang’s shoulders were _really_ starting to burn now. “Waiting for-?”

“Hi Ilia,” a quiet voice called through the general noise of the workout clamour. Yang turned, craning her neck - _oh,_ she knew that voice - and-

_CLANG._

-the weights fell as her shoulders finally gave out.

“Yang, was it?” Blake asked dryly, briefly turning her attention to her as she walked up to Ilia’s side.

“Uh huh. Sure was, yep,” Yang replied with a wince, trying to play it off as soreness as opposed to complete embarrassment. She rubbed at her shoulders, knowing full well that she’d have to ice them later due to her attempt to show off, and lifted herself up from the machine. “Uh… how are classes going?”

“Well, thank you,” she said, suddenly seeming more shy than before as she averted her gaze down to Yang’s shoelaces. Yang opened her mouth to ask if something was wrong, when Blake spoke up again. “And yours? I hear football tryouts are next week.”

“They’re going - I… what?” Yang said, her jaw hanging open in confusion.

“I think you have a very promising career in front of you - if you actually paid attention to where you were running,” Blake said, and Yang must’ve been imagining things, because that momentary shyness was completely gone now. 

“Wait a minute now-”

“ _Goldilocks_ here was the distracted asshole who ran into you that day?” Ilia spoke up, incredulous. Something flashed in Ilia’s eyes and she sized Yang up once again, any sense of friendly rivalry that had since been established almost instantly vanishing.

Yang knew that she should be a little unnerved or upset or even ashamed, but the way that Ilia referred to her implied that Blake had talked about her - or at the very least, about the incident - after the fact. And that made her just a little giddy. Even still, Ilia’s dangerous glare prompted Yang to step up, waving her hand awkwardly in apology, “I guess I didn’t really apologize for that, huh?”

Blake blinked at Yang’s words, seeming almost surprised at the softness that was offered there. She considered for a moment, or seemed to wrestle with accepting the apology, then settled her hand on Ilia’s shoulder, calming. “It’s alright,” she finally said. “I should’ve been more careful.”

Yang started, confusion scrunching at her forehead. “You? I was the one who-”

“Blake, you said you wanted me to show you how to use the machines, right?” Ilia said stiffly, finally tearing her glare away from Yang at Blake’s touch. 

Blake nodded, her gaze seeming to linger on Yang long after she had turned away. “I hope to see you around again sometime,” she said, somehow soft despite calling over her shoulder as Ilia pulled her to the other side of the gym.

“Yeah…,” Yang murmured, lifting a hand as a farewell to her back. It hung in the air, empty. “Same here.”

* * *

Midway through the week and up to her ears in prep for quizzes that were _supposed_ to get her ready for midterms but were in actuality just making her cry, Yang received an email as she sat in her bedroom with textbooks gaping open around her. Her phone only had to light up for a moment before Yang was pouncing on it, relieved for any sort of distraction. She’d even take reviewing her credit card statement at this point - anything other than medical terminology.

Well, it sure wasn’t a bill of any sort. Yang opened her email to the subject line, _Your Hermes Partner._

Yang’s heart nearly fell out of her chest, though she couldn’t really explain to herself _why_. It was only a penpal, right? It’s not like Yang had started to expect anything to actually come of this whole thing.

 _Congratulations,_ Hermes _has matched you with a partner! Below, you have been provided with a link that will take you to an individual chatroom that will only be accessible to you and your conversation partner and allow for easy instant messaging. Their email and profile is available to you now as well._

 _So what are you waiting for? Feel free to send_ stealthpanther _a message and say hello!_

_Happy chatting!_

Yang read over the email three times in quick succession, her eyes bouncing across the screen rapidly. Okay. She could totally do this. 

Studying forgotten, she clicked over to _stealthpanther’s_ profile and found fairly sparse information listed. There was very little of anything at all in the bio, just vague references to a book series and an apparent exuberant love of cats - so Yang just focused on the identifiers. Her name was Iris. She was 20, like Yang, except she listed herself as bisexual and nonbinary, with she/her and they/them pronouns. 

“Alright Iris,” Yang muttered to herself as she hovered over the instant messaging chat box for a split second - before ultimately deciding that she wasn’t quite ready for that level of commitment just yet. 

“It’s not like you’re asking this person to marry you or anything,” Yang scoffed at her own hesitance as she nudged a textbook out of the way to make space for her laptop so she could type out an email that way. “You’re just saying hi, sheesh.”

For a split second more, hovering on the edge of something that shouldn’t have felt as life-changing as it did in that moment, Yang’s fingers rested over her keyboard.

_Hey Iris,_

_So we got matched up, huh? I gotta say, I’ve never done anything like this whole penpal thing before honestly! Well, except if we’re counting that time in 3rd grade when they had us write a letter to someone in the 6th grade and mail it, all so we could practice writing the proper format of addressing a letter. And now we don’t even need to know that shit anymore. Crazy, huh? The things that technology makes obsolete, in a way. I think it’d still be neat to get an actual physical letter in the mail someday though!_

_Anyway, I guess I’m rambling a bit. I don’t really know what to say with these kinds of things, like, am I supposed to tell you about my family? What I’m studying in school? Well, we can figure it out together, right?_

_Sunny_


	3. the sweetness of company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris emails back. Yang and Blake share breakfast together.

Unread notification from _Hermes_. 

Yang’s phone had been flashing since she’d woken up at five o’clock in the morning, too wired to really get any proper sleep. She hadn’t been able to finish any of her studying last night after sending the email, so she ended up scrolling through socials, pausing to like the photo that Pyrrha had reposted from the _Inqueeries_ page that was a group photo of all the people who had attended the first meeting. Yang had scanned the faces in the photo, wondering if any of them was her mysterious new penpal. Except one of them was missing, she remembered. Ilia. She’d left before the photo was taken. 

Was it possible…?

Yang’s phone lit up again, pulling her out of her haze that seemed to toe the line between being too exhausted to function and too wound up to have any useful thought processes. With a jolt, she opened up the email on her phone to find that Iris had replied.

_Hello Sunny,_

_It's nice to meet you. I must admit, this isn't something I would normally find myself signing up for, but a friend of mine thought it would be good for me to try something new. Something to get out of my comfort zone._

_I apologize for seeming blunt. This isn’t exactly something that I know how to navigate either._

_Sincerely,_

_Iris_

Well that was… more than a little lackluster. Yang stared at the email for more than a few seconds, just trying to process exactly what to _do_ with a response like that. Was she supposed to get the ball rolling on her own by opening up to Iris first? She could totally do that, sure - but it just seemed like she was so closed off. If her friend encouraged her to participate in something like this, would she even want to communicate at all?

Yang made the decision to leave it for now. As exhausted as she was, with her mind in a fog, it probably wasn’t a good idea to attempt coherent conversation right at this moment. So she simply navigated away from her emails, checked the weather app and decided to get ready for the day.

Once her gym bag was packed, it was just past six o’clock and she could hear Summer in the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee for Tai. She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed downstairs, hoping that she’d be able to grab a travel mug to go before Tai was even awake.

“Morning Mom,” Yang said, her voice still scratchy from the early morning disuse. 

Summer turned just as she put the coffee maker on. “Well now, someone’s up quite early,” Summer said in surprise, lifting her arms and drawing Yang into a hug.

Yang let herself sink into the embrace for a few moments, resting her head against Summer’s shoulder. Instead of retaliating with a retort or a tease, Yang just shrugged as she stepped back and headed to the cupboard for some cereal. “I guess I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Something on your mind, dear one?” Summer asked, letting Yang go about making her own breakfast as she pulled down Yang’s favourite yellow thermos and sat it next to the coffee machine as it percolated. 

Yang made her cereal before heading to the table, snatching up a banana and the jar of peanut butter on the way. If she was going to go for a run around the campus track, she was going to need the energy. “Everything’s just so… _a lot_ ,” Yang eloquently got out past a mouthful of cereal. 

Summer laughed, coming over to sit across from her daughter while she waited for the coffee. “Everything’s just so a lot, hm?” she teased, dropping her chin into her palm as her elbow rested on the table. It was a move that Ruby had picked up on and seeing the similarities now, especially so early in the morning when everything was so unguarded, made Yang’s chest ache for a mother she never really got to know.

“Do you ever miss her?” Yang blurted, unable to keep her line of thinking on track.

Summer frowned, just a little, but then sighed. She was far too astute to need to ask who Yang was referring to - and Yang also had a small feeling that whenever anyone mentioned a _her,_ Summer’s thoughts were always drawn to Raven. “Of course I do, sweetie,” she replied carefully. “Almost as much as you do.”

Something squeezed at her insides and she felt her next bite get stuck in her throat. She took a drink from the water glass that Summer had set in front of her before sitting down. Summer was always thoughtful like that, like being a mother was so natural to her - in the way that Raven never was, never could be. “What if I don’t miss her at all?” Yang asked gruffly, knowing deep down that she didn’t mean that at all. But Raven never cared, never tried - so why should Yang?

Even though Yang hadn’t looked up, she could feel the subtle tension skipping off of Summer’s shoulders, shattering through the air. But it wasn’t like this line of conversation was unfamiliar between either of them, so Yang didn’t immediately stutter out an apology this time. “That isn’t true, and we both know that,” Summer sighed again, this time more heavily as regret bent her spine.

“Right. Sure,” Yang scoffed, her breakfast starting to taste bitter in her mouth. “She was never here, how could I possibly miss her.”

“She had a lot going on-” 

“Yeah, that’s what Dad’s said,” Yang snapped, adrenaline and anger blazing through the haze of her exhaustion. At this rate, she would burn out before she got out the front door. “She was troubled, she was going through some shit - I’ve heard it so many times, okay? But never from _her._ She never talked to me! Because she was never _here_!”

“Yang,” Summer started, laying her hand on Yang’s arm, doing her best to diffuse the tension that was rattling through Yang’s clenched fist. “You’re such a caring and empathetic person - almost to a fault. But a daughter should never have to carry a mother’s burdens that way. Please trust me when I say that she was trying her best for you. She said once that she was going to get the help she needed-”

“Was that supposed to be before or after she died?”

Yang’s words rang in the air like a shockwave, stunning and stealing air from the atmosphere. Summer, to her credit, did nothing more than to pull her hand away from Yang’s and stand. She didn’t reply to Yang’s outburst as she went back to the other side of the kitchen - and that’s when the shame started to seep into Yang’s veins as she finally processed what she’d _actually_ said out loud. 

“Mom, I-” Yang started, twisting in her chair, breakfast forgotten as she sought Summer’s forgiveness. “I didn’t mean - I mean, I shouldn’t have-”

“I think we both are going to need some time to ourselves,” Summer said carefully, her back to Yang still as her hands splayed out on the countertop in front of herself. Yang noted the tension in her shoulders, the way her jaw worked as she clenched her teeth.

Yang nodded, blank as she finally stood from the table. She snagged her backpack off of the floor, barely conscious of the way her shin collided with the coffee table on her way out the door. She laced up her riding boots on muscle memory, only turning back for a brief moment as her hand paused on the doorknob. 

Summer was still standing there, unmoving. The coffee machine sang out a four note tune to announce that it had finished brewing. And Yang’s coffee thermos sat beside it, neglected and untouched.

“I’m sorry,” Yang whispered, wishing she was braver. She headed out, feeling sick in a way that wasn’t physical.

  
  


Yang didn’t remember the ride to the university. She could’ve driven through a hailstorm and been just as unaffected as she was driving through the slight chill of the burgeoning fall air. Her thoughts were spinning - _Summer and I have_ never _fought like that before, I’ve never seen her_ that _upset and angry, that was_ my _fault, I was so stupid_ \- and subsequently, as her autopilot continued while she disembarked from her bike, she wasn’t paying attention in the slightest.

“Is this a habit of yours?”

Yang looked over towards the voice, finally snapped out of her spiral, and found Blake standing next to her on the sidewalk. Well, a few steps away from her on the sidewalk, where she presumably had stepped out of the way to dodge Yang’s leg as she’d dismounted. Even still, Blake’s words hadn’t fully filtered through her mind, so she just shrugged as she took off her helmet and headed towards campus without a response.

“Hey,” Blake called after her back. “Would it be alright if I walked with you?”

Yang stopped. Turned. Regarded Blake for a long moment as confusion cornered at her lips in a frown. When they’d first met, it seemed like Blake had wanted as little to do with her as possible - but now she was asking to walk with her? She decided not to bother trying to figure her out right then, and just shrugged again. “Yeah. I could use the company.”

Blake fell into step with her as they entered the main building, but otherwise stayed silent, obviously sensing the storm clouds circling over Yang and ultimately deciding to give her space.

Needing _something_ to focus on other than her fight with Summer, Yang decided to break the quiet. “So what are you doing here so early? Early class?”

Blake shook her head, checking her watch as they continued on the same path. “I only have one early lecture on Fridays, fortunately,” she replied as she turned a corner that diverged from Yang’s path to the track. Yang found herself following her without much thought, stopping as Blake knelt down at a specific locker. “No, I just started using the pool here to do laps most mornings. Helps clear my head.”

“Yeah,” Yang muttered, leaning against the bank of lockers as Blake fished out a gym bag and hefted it over her shoulder. “That’s what I’m here for too.”

There was another moment of silence as Blake closed her locker and clicked the lock shut. Then, as they continued on their way to the fitness center - a massive building that housed the pool and the adjoining track as well as the weights room and the gymnasium itself - Blake broke the silence this time. “Is everything alright, Yang?”

 _Was that supposed to be before or after she died?!_ Yang winced, shaking her head a little to rid herself of the haunting echo that persisted in her mind. “Just peachy,” she grunted, finding a grip on the straps of her backpack and holding tight. 

“Well,” Blake said, surprisingly undeterred. “If you ever decide that you want company in the mornings, I’m usually here. Ilia’s never been much of a morning person.”

Yang quirked an eyebrow at that. “Yeah, she kinda seems like a grumpy bitch.”

Blake’s hand came up to wrap around herself as they turned down the corridor that led to the pool change rooms. “Well… she has every right to be,” Blake said quietly, heaviness settling into her words. She paused, hand resting on the change room door. “I’ll see you around, Yang.”

“Yeah, uh…,” Yang started, pausing awkwardly when Blake didn’t immediately turn to leave. She glanced at her watch, only just now fully realizing that there was at least five hours until her first class of the day. Time she could’ve spent preparing for midterms or getting assignments done. “Do you want to go get breakfast afterwards?” she blurted.

“You haven’t eaten already?”

“I usually do before a work out, yeah,” Yang said defensively. “I just… left in a hurry this morning.”

Blake hummed, and Yang could tell that there was a shrewd kind of understanding behind her eyes - a kind that seemed to share similar experiences. “Alright,” she agreed after a moment. “I’ll meet you back here in an hour or so.”

“Sounds good,” Yang nodded before brushing past Blake on her way to the stairs that led to the track on the upper level. Her thoughts were still frayed with guilt, but at least she could start directing her energy somewhere positive.

Above, on the track, Yang barely made it six laps laps before starting to feel faint. She would’ve kicked herself for being so stupid - if she’d had the energy, that was. She cut her run short and dedicated the rest of the time to stretching and fretting about how to apologize to Summer.

“I’ll just text her,” she muttered to herself as she sat on the springy track floor, leaning forward to grab her toes. After finishing her last round of stretches, she went into the change rooms for a quick rinse off, grateful at least for the fact that she always kept a spare change of clothes in her backpack out of habit. 

Towelling off her hair with one hand, Yang palmed her phone and tapped on her conversation with Summer. Seeing that her last message from Summer was just a string of bears, people hugging and hearts of various colours - Yang should’ve never taught her about emojis - only made Yang feel worse. Summer had done nothing but support Yang, especially when things were really bad, and Yang had lashed out at her because of her own bottled up stress.

She decided to record a voice message instead. “Uh, hey mom,” she said, slumping down onto the bench in the middle of the room, towel draped over her shoulder. “I know _sorry_ doesn’t really cut it right now. I was out of line. Adjusting to this new world has been really stressful lately - which is no excuse, I know. I just… maybe we can go to the bakery for our usual after I get home today? We haven’t really had time to talk since the start of the year, and I’ve been missing that time together. There’s a lot of good things happening that I want to tell you about too, okay? I love you. Bye mom.” Yang finished the recording and opened their conversation, attaching the file before hitting send. 

Feeling spent in almost every way, Yang turned off her phone so she wouldn’t be tempted to continually be checking it to see if Summer had replied. Then she got up, ran a few fingers through the tangle of her still damp hair, before heading out to meet Blake for breakfast.

“Did you enjoy your run?” Blake asked, walking down the hall towards the pedway where Yang had settled herself on one of the couches that lined the middle of the walkway. 

Yang glanced up at her as she approached, blinking hard and feeling a little stunned. Aside from a complete outfit change and a little pink in her cheeks, Blake looked like she hadn’t just spent the last hour doing any kind of physical exertion. Yang cleared her throat, fighting to keep her eyes away from the curves that Blake’s skintight yoga outfit showed off. “I think I might’ve passed out on the track once or twice,” Yang joked. Her stomach growled as if to accentuate her point. 

Blake giggled a little at the sound, gesturing Yang to follow. “Come on. I heard good things about this little cafe just off campus, if you think you can handle the walk without passing out?”

Yang took a half-step back as she gave deference to Blake. “The promise of tasty breakfast food will keep me going until we get there. Lead the way!”

“Let me just drop off my gym bag first, and then we can head over,” Blake said, rolling her eyes at Yang’s exuberance. 

It was, as Blake promised, a short walk over to the cute cafe just across the street. From the outside, _The Honey Pot_ , seemed to be a well-maintained, if small, diner sort of building. And as they stepped inside, it felt like they’d entered an untouched piece of time. The entire cafe looked like it was still stuck in the nineties - but in the way that felt more homey rather than tourist trap. Already, even at the modestly early hour, a few students lounged in cushioned booths that were covered by pastel orange leather while someone sat on one of the chrome leather-topped stools that lined the long checkered counter - a pattern that matched the white and purple tiles on the floor.

Yang’s lips parted in awe as she took in the retro decor and the blinking neon signs that depicted a small bumblebee flying towards large pot of honey. “I guess they find it easier to catch more customers with honey, huh?” she tried, throwing out finger guns in Blake’s direction. “Get it… ‘cause of the.. honey, um. Okay.”

She caught up to Blake who had headed over to a corner booth at the direction of the sign that asked customers to seat themselves. “You were right about this place, that’s for sure,” Yang said as she settled herself into the C-shaped booth beside Blake. The cushions on this one were a mustard yellow. “How’d you hear about it?”

“I overheard a couple classmates talking about it the first week,” Blake explained as she absently pulled a few napkins out of the silver dispenser sitting at the center of the table. “They hadn’t been, but apparently it has a very good reputation with anyone who’s been attending campus for longer than three weeks.”

“Sure does!” a bright, bordering on obnoxious, voice piped up. 

Both girls started, glancing up to catch sight of a girl with coral pink hair tied up in pigtails with partially dyed neon blue bangs, approaching them. By the way that she wore an apron tied around her waist that flared out with little ruffles, Yang assumed that she was their waitress. And she was also _rollerblading_ towards them.

“Welcome to _The Honey Pot_ ladies!” she said, stopping on a dime as she tilted a toe to the floor. Thankfully, it seemed like she’d had plenty of practice on those things. As she dropped menus in front of them, Yang caught a glimpse of the name _Neon_ on her tag. That was almost too perfect to be her _actual_ name in a venue like this. “Is there anything I can get for ya to start with?”

“Just water for me,” Blake said.

“Uh, you guys got like a breadstick basket or something?” Yang asked, barely taking in the menu for the moment, still processing the way that Neon seemed custom built for this place. It was a _little_ disconcerting.

“Breadsticks, seriously? At eight in the morning?” 

Yang lifted a shoulder at Blake, uncaring of the disbelief. “A girl needs her carbs, y’know.”

“Yah!” Neon chimed in, slamming her hands down on the table between them, regarding Blake with a beady eyed stare. “I would trust her judgement on this one! She looks like she means business.” Neon’s gaze flickered over to Yang, a sly smirk twitching at her lips as she held her eyes for a lot longer that necessary. 

Yang felt a blush tinting at her cheeks just a little as she rubbed at the back of her neck, embarrassed. “Uh… yeah, business… totally….”

“I’ll be sure to bring those right out for you, cutie,” Neon tipped forward on the nose of her rollerblades as she booped Yang on the nose to punctuate her statement. Then she spun in a complete 360 and skated _backwards_ towards the double doors of the kitchen, sticking her tongue out at Yang the whole way.

Blake turned to stare at Yang in the few seconds of silence that followed. “ _Wow_ ,” she teased, leaning back in her seat and folding her arms. “Does that happen everywhere you go?”

“Oh, shut up,” Yang grumbled, scrubbing a palm across her cheeks as if to erase the blush that only grew more pronounced in the face of Blake’s amusement. Blake just shrugged, not quite familiar enough with her to keep pressing the joke, and Yang took advantage of her reluctance to swiftly change topics. “So, uh. Which class of yours was that?”

“Gender Studies,” Blake replied, still smiling a little. “It’s for my minor.”

“And your major?” 

“Literature,” Blake said. “I’ve always been fascinated in stories and poems ever since I was little - though the essays and non-fiction have been proving to be a bit of a challenge for me since coming here.”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it in no time though!” Yang encouraged, reaching out and bumping her lightly on the shoulder with a fist. “I mean, you seem like a very dedicated kind of person from what I’ve noticed, at least.”

“Thank you, Yang,” Blake said softly, folding her hands atop her lap and looking down. Yang wasn’t entirely sure if she was embarrassed or upset by her observation, so she just let the moment rest until Blake decided to speak up again. “And yourself?”

“Me?” she started, then shook herself. “Oh, right. I’m taking physical therapy, actually!” 

Blake folded her arms atop the table, dropping her chin into her palm as she regarded Yang with decidedly genuine interest. The effect of her attention had left the back of Yang’s throat just more than a little dry. _Oh jeez…_ “That’s a very intense program, isn’t it?”

Yang buried her face in her hands, letting out a muffled groan. “Please. I _almost_ forgot about midterms next week.”

Blake’s soft laugh sounded above her and, if Yang let herself think about it for more than a moment, she’d find that it was a very pleasant sound indeed. “I think you’ll be just fine,” she offered. “Just take it one step at a time. You’ll get used to it in no time - we both will,” she added to reassure herself as well.

Yang pulled herself out of her self-pity to catch Blake’s commiseration - and felt oddly bolstered by it. “It sure is nice to know that someone else seems to be struggling to adjust as much as I am,” Yang remarked, tilting her head to study Blake this time. “It feels like - I dunno. Everyone in my class seems to know _exactly_ what they’re doing, y’know? I had to redo a grade in highschool because I was just in and out of physical therapy for the better part of that year,” Yang shrugged, dropping her hands to the table, splaying her fingers of her prosthetic wide against the metal surface. “And afterwards I just… I wanted to take a year off to recalibrate. Relax. I guess it was a little stupid of me to think that a year wouldn’t make a difference.”

Blake was quiet for a moment, and a short glance over at her revealed that she was looking at Yang’s hand, a small frown tugging at the corner of her lips. Yang braced herself, resigned by now to the questions that often always followed after someone noticed her prosthetic. 

But they didn’t come.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been in school too,” Blake agreed, carefully measured. There was weight to her words that she was clearly trying to hide. “But I do think that it’ll get easier with time. That’s just how life is. We adapt, or we get left behind.”

It was Yang’s turn to frown as Blake’s words resonated a little too close to home. She flexed her hand, opening and closing her fingers in and out of a fist. “Knowing me, I’d be the one getting left behind,” she muttered, not exactly intending to say it aloud right then - or _ever_ \- but there was still a vulnerability in her soul from being scraped raw over memories of Raven. 

“Oh, Yang, I - I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“ _Sheesh_ ! Looks like something brought down the mood over here,” Neon’s voice cut through the tension as she skated over. “Or… _someone,_ ” she amended, lifting her eyebrows pointedly over in Blake’s direction as she deposited Yang’s breadsticks and Blake’s water onto the table.

“I-”

“Hey!” Yang protested, rushing to Blake’s defence as she suddenly shrunk into the booth next to Yang, Neon’s words clearly hitting Blake somewhere that hurt. “That wasn’t her fault-!”

Neon folded her arms, huffing. “Oh, lighten up! Didn’t mean for you to get your tits in a twist,” she smirked, glancing down at Yang’s chest for a moment as she stuck her tongue out again.

“Can we have a few more minutes to decide, please,” Blake said stiffly from beside Yang, her hand clenching tightly over her knee.

“Whatever!” Neon sing-songed over her shoulder as she spun and skated away.

“If you want to just go-” Yang started, lifting a hesitant hand to Blake’s shoulder, uncertain if she would be comfortable with an unfamiliar touch at that exact moment. 

“My apologies for Neon’s rudeness, ladies,” a deep soothing voice spoke up. They turned look as a tall, well-dressed man in a bowler hat approached them. “She’s… an acquired taste.”

“You can say that again,” Blake grumbled, rolling her eyes as she scowled. 

“As an apology, I’d like to credit you both with a $30 food voucher for you to use today,” he said, reaching into his vest pocket and pulled out two gift cards, sliding them onto the table for them to take. “As well as a free dessert to share - just tell them that Flynt will be taking care of the cost.”

“Wow, uh,” Yang said, a little stunned as she pocketed her gift card, absently nudging Blake’s towards her. “That’s very kind of you, thank you very much Flynt!”

“Anytime,” he smiled, tipping his hat at them. “We hope to keep this diner as a preferred hang out spot for you students and, as assistant manager, it’s my job to make sure that you’re satisfied with your experience here.”

Blake smiled a little at that, her posture opening up again. “Well, you’ve certainly turned that around for us.”

“A pleasure,” Flynt nodded again. “To make sure it remains that way, I will personally see to your service for the remainder of your meal here.”

They thanked him once again as he left them to look over the menus. Yang barely took three seconds to look at hers, dropping it flat on the table with a long sigh. “I’m definitely treating myself,” she declared. “I don’t think I’ve ever had such a fucking rollercoaster morning like this in awhile, honestly.”

Blake spent a little longer looking over the menu before setting it down. “Indeed,” she said quietly before pausing on an intake of breath. “I’m glad I had someone to share it with, though.”

Yang turned to her, a smile already blooming on her lips, crinkling at the corners of her eyes. “Yeah,” she agreed simply. “The company’s sure been nice.”

About an hour and a half later, Blake and Yang left _The Honey Pot_ with full stomachs and light spirits. They had actually finished their breakfast in half that time, but Yang had nowhere else to be and she wasn’t going to say anything about ending their time together - not with the way that Blake was leaning closer and closer to her, clearly feeling more at ease as time went on. So they ended up talking and laughing until Blake needed to head out.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Yang snorted, pushing open the door, holding it open for Blake before stepping out into the bright morning light. The sun had truly risen during their time inside, and it shone with a cold kind of light, the sort that promised fall. “What the fuck did he even _enroll_ for then?”

Blake lifted a shoulder as she let out a dry chuckle. “I have no idea. I believe I overheard him saying something about how he had a girlfriend who _oppressed him,_ so he decided to take a course on feminism so she would take him back.”

“Yikes,” Yang said, stretching her lips out in a pained smile, her eyebrows lifting. “That’s… definitely something.”

“It is,” Blake laughed again, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, glancing sideways at Yang as they waited to cross the street. “Are you feeling any better?” she asked hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure if Yang would want her to pry.

Yang glanced back at her as the walk light flashed. When all she caught was Blake’s profile, her eyes staring somewhere low, Yang lifted a shoulder, eyes returned front. “I am, actually,” she nodded after a moment of consideration. “Though, exercise and a good meal always do wonders in cheering me up - even better that they were basically free!”

“And that lava cake for dessert?” Blake moaned a little, licking at her lips as if still tasting the remains of the chocolate. Yang suddenly became _very_ interested in the activities of a flock of pigeons a few feet away. “That was an excellent choice, I-”

Yang’s phone blessedly rang, giving her something concrete to focus on other than her imagination rapidly going into overdrive. “Oh, sorry, I-” she said, stepping back for a moment before actually checking the caller display. 

It was Summer.

Oh. _Oh._

Softly, from beside her, “Do you need to take that?”

“I…,” Yang started, nervous all over again. Would Summer be angry with her still? She’d never stayed upset at Yang for long, even when she _knew_ that she deserved it during all those years of recovery. “Yeah… I should. Um…”

“I’ll let you go then,” Blake said, stepping back and giving her space. “Thanks again for breakfast, Yang.” She gave a small wave before turning and heading down the sidewalk towards campus. 

Yang could only watch her go, distracted, as the phone continued to ring in her hand. “Uh, hey mom,” she answered, pacing over to a bench and shucking off her backpack before dropping it at her feet and sitting down. 

“I got your message, hon,” she said, and Yang breathed a sigh of relief - she didn’t sound angry. “And I just wanted to say that I would love to go to the bakery with you and catch up. It sounded like there’s been a lot on your mind since starting school.”

Yang laughed, just to relieve the tension from her shoulders, but also because Summer wasn’t wrong in the slightest. “You have no idea,” Yang said, leaning back and staring up at the cloudless sky. “It feels like I’ve lived a thousand years here already - and it’s barely even been a month!”

“Well, it sure sounds like you have a lot to catch me up on! When will you be home tonight?”

Yang blanked on her schedule. “Uh… hang on. Lemme look at my day planner, it’s in my backpack somewhere.” She wedged her phone between her shoulder and her ear, rifling through her bag awkwardly as she muttered not-quite to herself. “I swear I haven’t taken it out, Weiss had made sure to remind me sternly that a well-organized agenda was the key to success… along with several _other_ keys to success, mind you….”

“Weiss?”

Yang kept digging, nodding even though Summer couldn’t see her. “Uh huh, yeah, she’s like the co-leader of one of the LBGT groups on campus here - her and her girlfriend Pyrrha, who I _totally_ kicked on the very first day-”

“You _kicked_ -?”

“Oh!” Yang said, sitting up triumphantly, dropping her agenda into her lap. “Got it, yeah. Here, uh… it’s all colour-coded, but I don’t think I’ll ever remember which is which, honestly,” she mumbled, tracing her finger down her schedule and noting when her last class ended. “I’ll be done at six!”

Summer made a sympathetic sound on the other end. “You be careful in that rush hour traffic, understand?”

Yang smiled, knowing that, deep down, no matter what happened between them, they both loved each other deeply. They’d both lost Raven and it had affected them both very much. “Don’t worry mom, I’ve always got all my protective gear with me.”

“That’s my girl,” Summer said, and Yang felt another rush of affection for her. “I’ll meet you at the bakery tonight, after your class. Does that sound good? You can stop at home if you’d like first, and we can drive together.”

“I’d like to take a proper shower first before going anywhere else today,” Yang admitted, scratching at her scalp a little. The soaps that the gym showers offered often left her feeling somehow dirtier than she’d started, and she’d left her shower kit at home when she’d rushed out the door this morning. “But otherwise, that sounds perfect. I’ll see you later tonight, mom.”

“Have a good rest of your day, sweetheart.”

The rest of the day passed rather quickly. With her excess energy expended at the track this morning, and the promise of delicious baked goods at the end of the day, Yang found that it was quite easy to focus on her lectures - even terminology, which normally made Yang feel like her brain was in a bowl and being ground to dust by the professor’s personal pestle. 

She even had time during a break between classes, while she was eating a quick snack, to figure out writing a reply to Iris. 

_Hey Iris!_

_I wouldn’t be too concerned about being blunt - I prefer the honesty! Makes it easier to stay on the same page, electronically of course. I’m glad that your friend convinced you to try something new! That’s what university is all about right? Expanding your horizons, opening yourself up to new experiences?_

_If it helps, I can start. Do some virtual icebreakers or whatever you like! Unless, of course, you want to keep our identities secret? That’s something we should establish, huh? I’m fine with either, really. Whatever you’re comfortable with!_

_Anyway, class is about to start, so I gotta go._

_Sunny_

The professor of Yang’s last class kept them half an hour longer past the time that the class was supposed to end. Apparently, according to the rumors that Yang had heard from the students in the second and third years of the program, he was notorious for pulling this kind of shit. She felt her agitation growing as she continually glanced at the clock every two seconds - and she wasn’t the only one. 

Finally, after droning on in a completely oblivious state for another seven minutes, he dismissed them with an absent gesture. “Don’t forget to look at the extra study materials I posted on Scroll Link. The questions on the midterm will be presented in a format similar to those worksheets.”

Yang barely heard him, though she made sure to scrawl _scroll physiology worksheets_ on her arm before rushing to her locker to grab her gear. If she hurried, there was a chance she could still possibly beat maybe _some_ of the rush hour traffic on her way home. She glanced up at one of the clocks in the hallway as she rushed out to the parking lot. _Fuck_. That was unlikely.

Once on the road, Yang faced what felt like the _worst_ gridlock she’d ever experienced. Realistically, she knew it wasn’t _that_ bad, and with her bike she was able to weave through at least some of the traffic in a way that was _almost_ safe but definitely got her honked at more than a few times. Even by a loaded semi, who Yang was pretty sure she hadn’t even been near at the time. 

People just wanted to hate on bikers tonight, apparently.

By the time she got home, she felt _completely_ wrung out. With her disrupted sleep the night before and the early morning and the brief run and the time she’d spent hanging out with Blake… it just felt like she’d lived an entire month in the space of less than eight hours. She threw the kickstand down on her bike and trudged into the house, thinking only of a long hot shower before collapsing into bed to hibernate for the next year. Or, at the very least, hopefully eight hours.

She was so tired that she only had the energy to drop her gear on the floor as she slowly trailed into the house - though she made sure to put her helmet in its place up on the top shelf of the closet, if nothing else but out of habit. 

“M’Home,” she called out vaguely as she tossed her motorbike jacket onto the arm of the couch.

“Hey sweetheart,” Summer called from the kitchen where she was loading up the dishes from dinner. “Would you like some dinner before we go out?”

“Go-?” Yang started, then smushed her face into her hand as a groan escaped her lips. “Shit, I… mom, I totally forgot.”

With Yang’s face buried in her palm as she rubbed at the frustrations that clouded around her temples, she missed the way that Summer’s face flashed in disappointment. It was gone in the moment she took to wash and dry her hands before coming into the living room to meet Yang in a hug. “You look absolutely exhausted,” she kissed her hair as Yang fell limp in her arms. Tried not to cry as exhaustion settled into her bones.

“I’m so _so_ sorry, mom,” Yang said against her shirt as she leaned against her, returned the embrace. They both knew that she wasn’t apologizing for forgetting about their mother daughter bakery date. 

“It’s alright, Yang,” Summer reassured, rocking her little girl back and forth ever so gently, murmuring a quiet hush against her ear, the way she used to when Yang was small. 

Yang let herself be held for awhile. For a long time. She soaked it in, clung to it. Tried to feel like she deserved it. Summer had never made her feel like second best, even when she’d had Ruby. She’d always been _Yang’s mom_ , even though she didn’t come into the picture until a few years after. She was just always… _there_. The way that Raven never was.

After their much needed hug, Summer coaxed some leftovers into her, taking the time to sit down with her at the table as she ate and talk to her about her day. Yang was too drained to go into details about much, but she did talk a little about her new friends - Weiss and Pyrrha. A girl in her program named Nora, as well as her boyfriend Ren. Ilia. The married couple who ran the bar on campus, Robyn and Fiona. And... Blake. 

Summer had listened with the sort of intentional caring that made Yang feel genuinely, completely and _entirely_ loved. She asked questions between bites of food, but didn’t press for further details if Yang gave a noncomiittal answer, allowing her to establish boundaries. 

Yang should’ve been grateful for the way she’d taken Yang under her wing - especially since Yang know deep down that anyone else probably would’ve seen her as an extraneous burden. Not only did Summer choose to raise her, but she chose to do so with _love_. 

So she should’ve been grateful. But as she stepped into the shower, water streaming off her back and washing off the day with a sense of finality, it was all she could do to keep herself from thinking of the mother that Raven _could’ve_ been if she’d only just loved her.


	4. sunlight in the garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang takes a study break in the gardens on campus and shares a quiet moment with Blake.
> 
> After their exams, the Rose-Xiao Long household prepares for a Thanksgiving feast.

“Yang, please. Stop panicking,” Weiss commanded sternly as she held a stack of flashcards in her hand. 

Yang flailed, staring at Weiss with a disbelieving look as she sat on the floor in the hallway in front of the classroom where her anatomy physical exam was currently taking place. “Stop panicking?!” she growled, smacking Pyrrha’s back in her stress as she watched one of her classmates step out of the classroom looking a little shellshocked. “ _That’s_ going to be me!” she pointed vigorously, whacking Pyrrha again on the way down from her erratic gesture.

Pyrrha shifted up on her elbows, glancing over her shoulder at Yang from her prone position on the floor. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to be nervous, Yang,” Pyrrha reassured her gently. “Weiss has been quizzing you on these flashcards for the past twenty minutes, you _know_ what you’re doing!”

Yang frowned, her heart racing as she watched another student head into the exam room. “Give me another one,” she snapped, settling her hands onto Pyrrha’s back to calm her nerves.

“As if you haven’t just been using this as an excuse to feel my girlfriend up-”

“Hey!”

“Alright,” Pyrrha said, sitting up from her spot where she had served as Yang’s practice body while she found bony landmarks and specific muscles. “Yang has been nothing but professional this whole time,” she said pointedly to Weiss, who had the good sense to look sheepish as a blush overtook her face at the slight admonishment in Pyrrha’s tone. “And secondly, I think a few minutes of relaxation before your exam will do your brain wonders, Yang.”

“Yeah, don’t even sweat it Yang!” Nora called over from where she was hunched over on the floor a few feet away from them, her boyfriend Ren ragdolled on the floor in front of her as she picked up random limbs to identify the muscles she was self-testing herself on.

“Wait, why haven’t you gone yet?!” Yang asked, immediately losing whatever cool she had managed to gain from Pyrrha’s gentle reassurances. 

“Uh, _duh_!” she rolled her eyes, flipping Ren over onto his back without a single ounce of effort. “They’re going alphabetically?”

Yang let out an uncomfortable long nervous laugh. “Hah… yeah. That’s right…. sure.” 

“I’m sure you’ll be up soon though!” Nora said, as if _that_ was the reason that Yang was nervous as all get out. Though, she _did_ wish it was over and done with by now. “Do you want me to quiz you?” She proffered Ren’s limp arm towards her. “Ren here is an _excellent_ body to practice on…”

“Nora, please, I’m already gay,” Yang sighed, gesturing over the Weiss and Pyrrha. 

Nora shrugged. “Oh well! Your loss. I was just about to locate the largest bone in the body-”

“Please for the love of fuck, do _not_ -”

“Yang Xiao Long?”

Never before had Yang been more glad to be yanked so firmly back into her own mind - even with it swimming in panic. “Yes, yep, I’m coming!”

“Good luck, Yang!” Nora called after her and Yang just grimaced awkwardly, forcing her brain back into Test Mode and away from… whatever the hell Nora had been about to do, really.

Truth was, Yang survived the exam much better than she had survived the mental scarring of Nora’s all but blatant attempt to cop a feel of her boyfriend. She settled back down on the couch where Weiss and Pyrrha had been waiting to see how the test went - but they had to leave shortly after for their own class. So, since Yang had promised Nora that they would hit up the gym after to work off some post-exam stress, she waited by herself.

She flicked through her socials for a few minutes aimlessly before checking her email. And was greeted by the sight of Iris’ latest reply, sent only a couple of hours prior. 

_Hello Sunny,_

_If it’s alright with you, then I would like to keep our identities secret from one another. I’m sure that you’re lovely in person, but it’s easier this way. To be quite honest, I signed up for this because I found myself needing to talk to someone. But there’s still a lot that I’m afraid of and I wasn’t ready to commit myself to meeting anyone in person. This seemed like the obvious solution to my concerns._

_If, after all that, you would still want to continue this partnership then, as you said earlier, we can figure this out together._

_Sincerely,_

_Iris_

Yang took in Iris’ words slowly, processing. It still wasn’t much, but it was so much more than the previous nearly curt sort of replies. There was bravery behind these words, a sense of desire to prove themselves. To stand on their own. 

And also fear. 

Iris’ previous bluntness started to make sense now, as it was a layer just above that protected a heart that had clearly gone through much. And wanted to save themselves from further disaster. Which Yang could hardly fault her for. After all, she’d been through hell and back too, in ways that made the pain feel like it was only yesterday sometimes. So she could understand Iris’ hesitancy. 

With Nora still in the exam room, Yang quickly hit reply.

_Hey Iris,_

_That’s a-okay with me then! I can understand the desire to keep things private for sure. In a way, it does make it easier to talk, right? There’s really no way to judge each other on any factors other than the words we say, so I guess it would feel easier to talk to someone that way. Like a personal diary, except someone’s on the other end._

_...that doesn’t sound too reassuring, does it? I honestly meant it to be more as a way to say that you don’t have to worry about what you say in these emails, because I won't judge and anything that’s said between us will stay between us and no one else. I’d like to be that_ someone _that you feel like you can trust with anything you want to say._

_I’m not the best with words sometimes, but I’ve been told that I’m a good listener. Well, reader in this case, I guess. Whatever you need to talk about, whatever you’re comfortable with, I’ll listen. No judgements, okay? I promise._

_Sunny_

Yang started at the sign off for a moment, frowning. Was that _too_ casual after everything she’d said? She didn’t want Iris thinking that she was being flippant and not giving the conversation the weight it deserved.

She erased and finished it with a _Yours Truly_ instead. Then hit send, and tried her damndest not to overthink it and throw herself into a panic.

“Who ya textin’?!” 

Yang nearly jumped out of her skin. “Nora! What the _fuck_!” she shrieked, her phone flying out of her hand as she toppled from the couch, limbs akimbo.

Nora, at least, had the decency to wince in sympathy - that was, at least, until she burst out into raucous laughter. “I didn’t mean to scare you, yeesh!” she said, swiping Yang’s phone from the floor before offering a hand to help her up. “You look _hilarious_ down there, by the way.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Yang rolled her eyes as she dusted herself off, holding her hand out for her phone.

Nora smacked it back into her palm, but it was not without an accompanying curiosity. “ _Hermes_ , huh?”

Yang felt her heart race as she bent down to collect her backpack, turning away briefly in an attempt to hide her blush. What was she nervous for, anyway? It wasn’t like it was anything _lewd._ “No, I - nope, no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Yang, re _lax_ ,” Nora waved an airy hand. “I didn’t even see anything except for the logo, alright?”

“I wasn’t worried that you _saw_ anything,” Yang said defensively, shoving her phone into her pocket as she slung her backpack over her shoulder. She _wasn’t_? Then what was it, exactly? “I just…”

Nora slowed down, almost becoming someone Yang could see as a quiet river of peace. “It’s private stuff, I know,” she said, patting Yang’s shoulder sympathetically. “But it’s nothing to be ashamed of! I signed up for it myself actually.”

Yang, about to protest that she _wasn’t_ ashamed of her emails with Iris, found herself blinking in surprise. “Wait. _You_?”

“Sure did!” she nodded as they made their way down to the gym. “It’s like, really difficult to connect with other trans peeps - even if you join queer clubs on campus! So, y’know, when I saw the ad in the hallway, I totally went for it.”

“Huh. That’s awesome,” Yang said, trying to feign a casual attitude while simultaneously showing her interest. She failed spectacularly on both accounts.

“Let me guess,” Nora said with a sly grin. “Your partner asked to remain anonymous and now you’re desperately trying to play Nancy Drew, huh?”

Yang blushed, then rolled her eyes at the predictable reaction. “Fine. I’m _assuming_ it’s not you then, since you have me pegged.”

“Please. _You_?” Nora laughed, punching her shoulder and nearly sending her into the wall. “That honor is reserved for Mister Valkyrie and Mister Valkyrie alone.”

“I - what? What are you - _oh_. Come on!” Yang gagged, sticking her tongue out in disgust. “Stop bringing up your sex life in front of me, I _beg_ you.”

“Not into that, actually!” Nora’s shiteating grin grew even bigger as she bounced along. “You gotta stop making this easy for me, Xiao Long! You keep walking right into the innuendos, y’know.”

“Are you Iris or not?” Yang asked flatly, folding her arms and stopping dead in the hallway until she got an _actual_ answer out of her. Mischievous fucking pixie.

“ _Ooh_ , Iris! Is that the name they go by?” Nora’s eyes lit up with interest, and Yang’s small irrational bubble of hope popped. So it wasn’t her.

She sighed, continuing on their way to the gym. “Yeah. She just told me today that she wants to stay anonymous. Which I _get_ but… I don’t know. I guess I’m just disappointed and I’m not really sure why.”

“Well maybe she’ll change her mind later or something!” Nora reassured as she shouldered open the door to the locker rooms. 

“Yeah, maybe….”

“In the meantime…,” Nora said, pushing at her shoulder to shake her out of her sudden brooding. “I’ve got the _perfect_ distraction!”

Yang quirked an eyebrow at her, sensing a challenge. “...and that is?"

“ _Bench press competition!_ ”

“You’re _so_ on.”

* * *

With all but one of her midterms finished, to varying degrees of induced anxiety, Yang decided that it was more than fair for her to have a nice decently long break. Right before her previous exam, Pyrrha had told her about a garden - what she described as a “lovely little thing” - that was near the farthest edge of campus. She and Weiss suggested that if Yang ever needed a break to recharge herself, then the botanic gardens would be the best place to go.

Yang found her way to the garden's main entrance - and nearly ate a rosebush with how wide her jaw hung open. “ _Little_?!” she gaped, taking in her surroundings.

From where she stood at the entrance, marked by an intricately designed wooden archway, the gardens seemed _enormous_. Waist high shrubbery lined a stone walkway that seemed to meander through the center of the greenspace, branching off into paths of well-maintained grass, with trees marking off each intersection.

It looked like the kind of place she could spend hours getting lost in, the outside world and its responsibilities so easily forgotten.

And Yang fell in love with it.

She spent the next little while wandering through all the different little paths, literally stopping to smell the roses and admire all the different kinds of flowers that were blooming. The sun shone down through the trees, dappling the stonework with patches of light as Yang walked, soaking it all in. 

Eventually, she came to the center of the garden. A cheerful stone fountain bubbled, water burbling out of the beak of a gryphon as it crowed in silent triumph. Yang hummed happily to herself, stepping down onto the lowered platform inset into the ground and sinking down onto the grass that surrounded the fountain. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, soaking in the warmth of the sun.

“Yang?” a gentle voice called out to her after some time, rousing her from her not-quite slumber. 

She cracked an eye open, then immediately closed it again for several moments before risking a squint against the bright sun overhead. She groaned, shading her eyes as she slowly sat up. Wait. When had she laid down? “Uh…,” she glanced around herself, her face twisting as her consciousness slowly seeped back to her. She caught sight of Blake, book tucked under her arm, standing just in front of the fountain. “Shit, um. Hey Blake. What’s up?”

Instead of answering right away, Blake decided to join her on the ground, hand planted firmly in the grass as she lowered herself to rest against the concrete ledge next to Yang. “It’s such a nice day out today, isn’t it?”

Yang blinked, desperately pulling her attention from Blake’s slender fingers buried in the grass, and glanced up at the cloudless sky. “Probably the last nice day we’ll have for awhile,” she agreed, folding her hands in her lap.

“You think so?”

Yang turned back to her, noting the dispassionate tone in Blake’s voice. “You don’t seem exactly thrilled by that.”

Blake shook her head, a frown tight on her lips. Which Yang tried not to think about. “I hate the cold.”

“Cold?” Yang asked, gesturing to the leaves which had barely begun to turn yellow. “It’s still going to be t-shirt weather for like… another month, at least!”

Blake laughed. “Okay, sure. To you at least, I’m sure. You don’t even _wear_ sleeves, do you?”

“I can’t help it that I run hot,” Yang protested, lifting her arm and flexing. “Or that these guns need space to breathe.”

Yang didn’t miss the way that Blake’s eyes tracked over the obvious swell of her bicep, or the way her lips parted slightly. She tried to catch her eyes, but Blake just cleared her throat. “I simply wasn’t built for the cold,” she said lightly, shrugging. “I prefer to stay inside anyway.”

Something in her stomach dropped, just a little, and Yang shoved away the disappointment. “Well, that’s all we’re gonna be doing anyway come finals, so. You’ll get your wish.”

“Just me, a good book and a nice hot drink,” Blake said, adding with chagrin, “and my shitty apartment. That’s how I’m planning to spend my break after all this is all over.”

“That’s assuming you survive the semester,” Yang chuckled, her tone faux-serious. “I know that my courseload is completely fucked this term, honestly.”

“I’ll be sure to bury your exhausted corpse in front of the fountain here,” Blake replied, completely deadpan. Continued, “You know… there’s even a legend I read about this campus. Something about how overworked students who failed midterms would simply collapse in the garden and never rise again.”

“You’re full of shit!” Yang gaped at her with wide eyes. But Blake _was_ literature major, she had to know at least a little of what she was talking about….

“Your face!” Blake burst out into laughter, doubling over on herself. “You absolutely believed me!”

“I did _not_!”

Blake propped herself up on her folded knees, raising her hand and holding her finger and thumb apart. “Just for a split second, admit it! I’d got you, didn’t I?”

Yang swatted at her hand, pushing it down into the grass insistently. “Okay, _fine_! Just for a second, alright? You happy?”

“Marginally,” Blake replied, tilting her head as a smile cornered her lips. 

Her giggles died down and Yang realized that she’d been resting her hand on top of Blake’s. She glanced down, the direction of her gaze obvious as Blake followed along. But neither of them moved. “I, uhm…,” she started, a faint blush tinting high on her cheeks. “Sorry,” she muttered, shifting her hand away, boldness fleeing as Blake’s eyes strayed towards her.

“I should be getting back to my studies,” Blake said, her tone unreadable as she moved to stand once more.

“Uh… yeah, I should as well…,” Yang said quietly, her hand, the one that had been resting over Blake’s, burning as she found the back of her neck. 

“Good luck,” Blake said softly as she turned away.

 _Idiot!_ She jumped to her feet. “Hey, uh,” Yang called, wincing at herself as she practically shouted at Blake, who hadn’t even moved two feet. “If, um, you don’t have any plans for Thanksgiving, my family always does this really nice dinner thing. You’d be more than welcome to join. If you’d like to, that is.”

Blake regarded her for a long moment, her expression as unreadable as her tone had been. “I…,” she finally said, and the way her arm came across to hug herself gave Yang a clue as to what Blake was feeling.

“You can invite Ilia too if you’d like! Y’know, if you don’t want to come alone,” Yang reassured quickly. “Plus, I’m definitely going to be inviting other people from school so like, if you’re worried about it being weird to _intrude on family_ or something - don’t be. I’ve totally got that covered.”

Blake bit her lip, though her posture opened up once again in the face of Yang’s unrelenting eagerness. “It’s quite different than how I would usually spend my time,” she admitted.

“I know. You just want your books and your tea in your shitty apartment, right?” Yang teased, nudging into her shoulder. “Don’t you want to try something different for once?”

For a fleeting second, Blake seemed to retreat within herself as Yang cajoled her. But it was gone in a single spark of replying grin as she pushed back against Yang. “Alright, you’ve convinced me!” Blake gave up, shaking her head. She fished her phone out of her pocket, handing it to Yang.

“Huh?”

“Your _number_ , dumbass,” Blake rolled her eyes. “How else will I know any details about this dinner that you’ve coerced me into?”

“Oh, hah! Right, sure. Yep, number. Got it,” Yang said, nodding vigorously as she tried to force her brain to recall the string of numbers that made up her phone number.

Blake folded her arms, regarding her with an unimpressed look. Yang ducked her head sheepishly, feeling like she had just ran headlong into Blake once again - except in an entirely different way this time. “You don’t know your own number, do you?”

“Uh…,” Yang floundered for a long moment, hoping to magically remember in that exact moment so she could save face. But, of course, the universe _wanted_ to see her suffer. “No.”

Blake rolled her eyes again, but there was fondness there this time. “Here,” she said, holding her hand out for Yang’s phone instead. With a few deft taps, Blake added her number to Yang’s contacts and handed it back to her. “Text me, okay?”

Yang took her phone, fighting a smile as she made sure that Blake’s number was properly saved in her contacts before tucking it into her pocket. “Count on it.”

* * *

Yang’s last practical exam went as well as any test could be expected to go. Which was to say that she basically shifted into autopilot and somehow managed to get out of there alive without accidentally punching someone in the face. 

Gods. That very first practical exam had been an absolute disaster.

Thankfully, with exam stress out of the way for the time being - Yang was _definitely_ not thinking about how finals would be _even worse_ \- it was time to prepare for the annual Rose-Xiao Long Thanksgiving extravaganza.

“A _third_ turkey, Yang?” Tai stared in disbelief as Yang hauled another turkey into the cart, dropping it carelessly on top of the other two frozen birds. 

“You’ll thank me after Nora’s eaten one all on her own!” Yang said as she crossed the turkeys off her list. 

Tai peered over her shoulder at the list of things they had yet still to get. “And just how many people are we expecting again?”

Yang counted off on her fingers as she listed names. “So there’s Weiss and Pyrrha. Nora and Ren, Robyn and Fiona. Then Blake and Ilia and… yeah! That’s it, eight people. Though, again, Nora counts for five so, y’know.”

Tai sighed, taking another look at the list. “Alright, I’ll go get the dinner essentials and you can go get the drinks and the snacks and other things that you think are _totally_ necessary. Sound good?”

Yang nodded, leaving the cart with him. “I promise to keep the snacks under the budget this time,” she reassured. 

“Oh, and Yang?”

“Yeah dad?”

“Just…,” he started, a little heavily. “Nothing alcoholic, okay?”

Yang sighed, grumbling as she folded her arms. “Yeah, alright. I don’t get what’s the big deal though. My friends are probably going to bring their own shit, why can’t I?”

“You’re still underage-”

“By less than a year! And I’d pay you back,” Yang frowned, trying to keep her voice down as they stopped in the middle of an aisle.

“And while you’re under our roof, you follow our rules,” Tai said firmly, ruffling Yang’s hair in an attempt to undercut his tone. Yang just dodged out his reach before he could even get close to her. “As for your friends, as long as they’re being responsible and no one leaves the house intending to drive after drinking, we can’t really do anything about that.”

“Convenient,” Yang muttered under her breath. “Whatever. Let’s just get this done,” she shrugged him off, turning on her heel and heading to the snack aisle.

“We just want you to be safe, kiddo. That’s all.”  
  


Thanksgiving dinner preparations started a full day before the guests would even be arriving. No one dared to argue with Summer about her overzealous approach to prep after she had assigned Yang to turkey stuffing duty with several _choice_ comments chasing her across the kitchen.

“I haven’t even gotten _any,_ thank you very much!” Yang snapped somewhat good-naturedly across the room as Summer prepared the brine.

“Then you’ll be thanking me for the extra practice, won't you?”

Yang froze, mortified as she stared at her mother, elbow deep inside a chicken with her free hand separating the legs. She wore a special heavy duty glove that covered her prosthetic past the elbow to protect the joints from getting gummed up with various fats and juices. “You _can’t_ say that kind of stuff to me while I have my _entire arm_ up what used to be a turkey’s asshole!”

“Yang! Language!” Ruby shouted from atop the stairs as she came down from her lair to witness the carnage. She stopped dead in the hallway. “That looks absolutely disgusting.”

“Please,” Yang said as she pulled her arm out and grabbed another fistful of stuffing. Beside her, Summer had moved on to tying the legs back together of the turkeys that Yang had already finished stuffing. “Like you haven’t heard me say worse! You just want an excuse for me to throw money in that dumb swear jar that Dad started to ‘help me be more mindful of my language’.”

Ruby pouted when Yang hadn’t spoken another swear in her reply and proved Yang’s point. “Yeah, well. I’m not the one with my fist up a turkey’s butt,” she said, as if that was some epic sort of rebuttal.

“And neither am I,” Yang grunted as she finished up and rinsed off her glove before attempting to peel it off. “A little help?”

Ruby scooted over to Yang as she held her arm outstretched before her and started to roll the thick latex down her prosthetic. “It’s so _slimy_ ,” she whined, dropping it into the sink in disgust as soon as it was freed from Yang’s arm. 

“Duh. That’s why I had the glove in the first place,” Yang said with a shrug as she nudged on the water and carefully washed her other hand, mindful not to let the running water get into the joints of her fingers. It wasn’t that the water had ever caused a problem, since her prosthetic was made of the highest grade materials on the market, but moreso that she was irrationally afraid that she would somehow damage it and be even more of a burden for her parents.

“Anything else you need me for, Mom?” Yang asked, drying her hands. 

Summer swept a glance over at the small mess that Yang had left behind from her adventure in stuffing then at Yang herself as she rolled her sleeves back down. “No, that’s alright. You can take a bit of a break and then help your sister put up the larger decorations later.”

“Aw, yis! Does that mean I get to bring out Frankenfurkey?” Ruby fistpumped, barely waiting for a reply before she dashed off downstairs to the storage closet.

Both Summer and Yang shared an eye roll as Yang meandered out into the living room and flopped over onto the couch, stretching herself out haphazardly. Her wrist ached a little from her efforts in the kitchen and she made a mental note to stretch it out before her next work out.

She was about to flip on the TV and mindlessly zone out to whatever was on at eight o’clock at night when her phone lit up with an email notification. One that Yang was starting to get very familiar with.

_Hello Sunny,_

She read quickly, sitting up a little more at attention so she could focus on the words in front of her. 

_Thank you for saying that. It’s actually quite sweet. I used to keep a diary a long time ago, actually. It was one of the ways I could escape from the world, even just for a little while. My diary was the one thing I could confide in without fear and I started to see it as my own personal_ pocket friend _. It feels a little silly now that I’m thinking back on it._

_But it is nice to know that I have someone to talk to about things. My classmates all have their own groups, which is fine. They all seem a little shallow, if I’m being honest. But I do wish I had someone to share the deeper shit with and not feel like a burden. I used to have a best friend that I would confide in, but a lot has happened between us and I still wonder sometimes if she’s still angry with me for what I did._

_I’m sorry if this is too much too quickly. You can always tell me if there’s anything that makes you uncomfortable._

_Sincerely,_

_Iris_

Yang was so absorbed in reading Iris’ reply, her brown knitted together in concentration, that she didn’t notice Ruby come back up the stairs with her horrific paper mache turkey creation, completely with a pilgrim hat and an oversized tail made out of a paper fan painted with garish reds, yellows and oranges. 

“Whatchu smiling about?” she said, as she held Frankenfurkey aloft like some kind of trophy.

“Jeez!” Yang jumped, smacking her hand to her chest. “What _is it_ with people sneaking up on me while I’m reading?!”

“Reading?” Ruby asked, dropping the rotund turkey onto the ground with minimal care. For all the hours she’d claimed that she’d _slaved_ over her creation, she didn’t seem to mind too much if the paper mache ripped. “Looks like an email to me.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Yang said through gritted teeth as she shoved her phone into her pocket and swinging herself off of the couch, pushing Ruby out of the way as she hung over her shoulder. “An email which I was _reading_.”

“Aren’t emails usually _so_ boring though? They’re like junk mail, junk mail, ad that _totally_ proves that our technology is spying on us, overdue credit statement, bill and _more_ junk mail!” she threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “See! Nothing good. Unless it’s confirmation of a package delivery - and you haven’t ordered anything recently!”

Yang rolled her eyes, unable to stop herself from grinning at her sister’s stupid antics. “Well, I _could’ve_ ordered something and just didn’t tell you. Ever think about that?” she said as she reached over and hefted Frankenfurkey into the air, scanning around the living room for the best place to put it.

“Pfft, no way!” Ruby waved her hand dismissively through the air. “You get _way_ too excited about packages _not_ to say anything.”

“Nah, this one’s _private_ ,” Yang arched an eyebrow as Ruby snatched Frankenfurkey from her, muttering something about how she’d put it in the wrong place and _hinder his essence_.

“What kind of package would be _private_ anyway?”

Yang folded her arms and just stared silently as Ruby scooted around the room and moved the turkey to three different places before finally settling on the mantle above the fireplace. So it’d be the first thing their guests would see as they walked in. Great. 

“What?” Ruby turned, shoving her hands on her hips belligerently at Yang’s refusal to answer her question outright. 

“Oh, Rubes,” Yang sighed, shaking her head. “Just sometimes it’s hard to remember that you completely and entirely forget that sex is a thing for some of us.”

“I-” Ruby started to protest before Yang cut her off with a lewd motion down at her waistline. “Ugh, Yang - that’s _so_ gross, c’mon!”

“Have to catch me to make me stop!” Yang called after her, backing up a few steps as she raised that same hand up to her lips in a V and stuck her tongue through it.

“You know I’m gonna!” she yelled back as she started chasing her around the house. All decorating for the rest of the night was postponed in the face of shenanigans that they both found themselves sorely missing.

It wasn’t until Yang had settled into bed later that night after playing several rounds of overly competitive Mario Kart that she allowed herself to address the question that had been insistently floating around the fringes of her mind. What was it about her emails with Iris that had her so desperate to keep them a secret?

* * *

A polite knock sounded at the front door just as Yang was setting the last place setting at the dining room table. “I’ll get it!” she called back to the kitchen, where Summer was just pulling the stuffing out of the oven. She headed to the front entry and opened the door, revealing Pyrrha and Weiss standing there, looking as prim and proper as ever. “Hey guys! You’re the first ones here, c’mon in.”

Pyrrha sighed, a little mollified as Weiss brushed past her. “See dear, I told you that we wouldn’t be late,” she reassured her, reaching out and slipping Weiss’ coat off her shoulders.

“Is there anything you needed help with, Yang?” Weiss just asked, proffering the dessert that they had brought. “And do you have any place that I could set this down? It’s Pyrrha’s special apple blossom tart.”

“Uh, yeah, um… my mom’s in the kitchen, just through there. She should be able to help you out. And direct you, I guess. Since you want to help so bad,” Yang said, pointing through to the back of the house. Weiss whisked off before Yang even had a chance to finish her sentence.

“I’m sorry about her,” Pyrrha shrugged apologetically, reaching out and pulling Yang into a quick hug. She smelled like cinnamon. “She always gets this way whenever she meets new people - especially parents.”

Yang returned the hug with a squeeze, laughing a little. “A parent pleaser, huh? She’s got nothing to worry about with my parents then - my mom loves an eager set of hands. And dad will just be grateful that someone will be willing to sit through his awful jokes for the entire dinner.”

Pyrrha smiled as she hung up their coats and slid them along the rack to make space for the others when they arrived. “It’s good to see you, Yang,” she said warmly. “How were your exams?”

“Oh, they-” 

Yang was suddenly cut off as a loud cacophony of hammering fists and clanging doorbells sounded not two feet away from them. Pyrrha winced. “No prizes to the one who guesses who’s waiting for you outside,” she said apologetically. 

Yang shrugged and pulled open the door - which unfortunately didn’t stop the noise. “Nora, okay, hi, you’re here, I get it alright?”

Ren squeezed past her with a salad in hand. “I’m truly very sorry about this,” he said apologetically. “It’s the promise of a feast that’s been driving her wild. I don’t think she slept a single wink last night.”

“Well, _yeah_ that’s ‘cause we-!”

Yang threw her hands up in the air. “The _first thing_. Dear gods, why is it the first thing that you have to say before even stepping foot in my house?!”

“Because you _looove_ it?” Nora grinned rakishly, reaching out and tapping Yang on the nose. 

“Not as much as Ren does though, I’m sure,” Yang returned, stepping back to let them into the house.

“Ooh, she’s learning!” Nora said. “I’m so proud.”

“Just _please_ behave around my parents? I’m _begging_ you - my mom can’t think that I’ve befriended sex fiends and degenerates,” Yang said, glancing back at Pyrrha who had found her way to the kitchen and had graciously begun helping Summer prepare the punch. “With certain exceptions.”

“Oh please,” Nora shrugged, kicking off her shoes. “You have _nothing_ to worry about, I’ll be Little Miss Perfect! Count on it.”

Yang grimaced, softening slightly as Ren laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be sure to keep her in line.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” she mouthed at him as she squeezed past them into the kitchen, where Weiss was fluttering around, doing her absolute best to seem as helpful as possible - when, in fact, she was mostly just getting in the way of the actual work. Summer didn’t seem to mind though - she’d _always_ had a knack for taking people under her wing. Their little family wouldn’t be what it was if she hadn’t.

At that moment, Ruby came thumping down the stairs like the ball of chaotic energy she was. “Ooh, are Yang’s friends all here?!” she called, practically somersaulting onto the floor on the landing before springing upright amidst the group. 

“Not all of them,” Yang said, her thoughts drifting to Blake. “But yeah, everyone? This is my annoying little sister, Ruby. Annoying little sister, this is-”

“Nora!” Nora butt in, reaching over and pulling Ruby into an entirely unnecessary bear hug.

“I’m so sorry about her,” Ren apologized again with a heavy sigh, attempting to wrestle Nora out of the hug that she had glomped onto Ruby. 

“All good,” Ruby wheezed out. “Hugs are great… when they don’t shatter my ribs.”

“So you've met Nora," Yang rolled her eyes. "This is her ever patient boyfriend, Ren,” Yang gestured, who reached out for a much more formal handshake - which Yang could tell that Ruby was almost even _more_ weirded out by. “And in the kitchen-”

“Oh my _gosh_!” Ruby squealed loudly, bringing all activity to a stuttering halt. “Yang!” she leaned over, cupping her mouth in a horrible stage-whisper. “Those are _your_ friends?! But they’re both too pretty to be your friends!”

“Okay-”

“Finally,” Weiss sniffed, cocking her hip with a hand on her waist. “ _Someone_ understands.”

“I mean,” Ruby said, dodging around Yang and darting into the kitchen and looking up at Pyrrha and Weiss with literal stars in her eyes. “ _Look_ , how did you not _immediately_ pass out-?!”

“Ruby, that’s enough,” Summer admonished gently with laughter dancing on her tongue. “She’s not quite _that_ bad. She’s grown up a lot since the last time she fell face-first from the swings and had to go to the hospital for a severe concussion all because a pretty girl smiled at her from across the playground.”

“Y’know what, _gosh_ , I think the turkeys are ready to come out of the oven!” Yang laughed in a forced sort of way, shouldering her way through the group and heading into the kitchen. 

“Just one moment, sunshine,” Tai tutted, poking his head in from the backyard where he was grilling vegetables. “Those birds aren’t going anywhere until everyone’s sitting down at the table ready to eat and not a second earlier.” 

“I know, I know,” Yang sighed, slumping against the counter. “Tradition, I got it. I just needed an excuse to escape the _melee_ over there.”

“You? The Branwen Brawler _not_ in thick of it?” 

“Shocker, I know,” Yang rolled her eyes, forcing back a frown. 

Tai gave a cursory glance over his vegetables, turning a couple of the foil packets before stepping inside and washing his hands. As he dried them off, he settled against the counter next to Yang. “Something been on your mind lately?”

Yang let out a vague grunt. “School’s been a bitch, that’s all,” she shrugged, trying to force down the anxious energy that had been bubbling up in her gut for the past several days. Weeks?

“That’s not all,” Tai put in astutely. And waited.

“Fine,” Yang gave. “It’s been fine, I guess. Y’know, I’ve made friends, obviously,” she gestured to the dining room where Robyn and Fiona had now arrived and were making pleasant small talk with Summer, who seemed grateful for other _mature adults_ to talk to. “But I haven’t had the time to get back to what I really love. The bag in the basement is fine to keep up my form but… I haven’t had anyone to fight with since I started. And I _miss_ that.”

“Your old man’s right here, y’know,” Tai ribbed, nudging Yang with his elbow.

“You _know_ what I mean,” she rolled her eyes again. “People _my_ age?”

Tai slapped a hand to his chest, mock offended even as a laugh bubbled out of his chest. “I know what you mean. Honestly, I think my sparring days are over. My baby’s progressed past her old man now - and I couldn’t be prouder.” 

_Unlike Raven,_ Yang couldn’t help but think, her gut twisting with something else, something different - but no less familiar. Loss. Shame. Disappointment. Things that clung to her like a second skin, a clone of her identity. An identity she managed to keep buried for the most part, only really rearing its head around holidays, things that were meant for family. 

“What about your red-headed friend there?” Tai said, and Yang blinked, shook her head. She hadn’t realized that she had allowed the conversation to lapse.

Yang tracked along to where he was pointing and found Nora laying flat on her back - _bench pressing_ Ren, of all things. Yang laughed, “Oh, Nora? She’s a beast in the gym, that’s for sure. _Clearly_. But she’d sooner rip my head off than land a clean hit - she’s _feral_. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“My lips are sealed,” Tai said solemnly, shaking his head, heading back out to the grill just as Pyrrha made her way to the front and opened the door. Over the tangle and babble of conversation, Yang hadn’t even heard a knock.

“Hello again!” she heard Pyrrha say as the last guests to arrive stepped inside. “Ilia, was it?”

Ilia grinned wide, a blush blooming across her cheeks almost _instantly._ “Uh, I… yeah! You remembered, that’s… good. Great.”

“Of course I remembered,” Pyrrha said warmly, closing the door behind them. “I make it my business to familiarize myself with the members of our little club. Speaking of which, we’d love to have you back with us again! We have some lovely Halloween events coming up.”

“Oh, I - uh…. I mean, I’m sure I could find the time… since _you’re_ asking that is…”

Yang drifted over, tuning out the rest of the conversations around her as she came to stand next to Blake, who had quietly hung up her jacket as her best friend stumbled through a conversation with a very gorgeous woman. “Uh, hey,” Yang said, offering a small awkward wave. Honestly, she wasn’t doing much better than Ilia. “Glad you could make it!”

“I almost thought you forgot,” she teased lightly, holding up her phone. “You only gave me your address this _morning_.”

Yang blushed, stuffing her hands in her pockets and kicking a socked toe at the carpet. “Shit, yeah, uh… sorry about that. I kinda had my hands full yesterday, I mean, one of them literally _was_ up a turkey butt - more than one butt actually…”

Blake’s eyes widened in shock before bursting out into laughter. “Oh the - right! Turkey stuffing, right. That took me a second, wow.”

Yang beamed almost unconsciously in response, leaning in closer and nodding eagerly. “Yeah, you should’ve seen the glove on my hand! Just up to my elbow in-!”

“Oh my _gosh_!” A loud squeal that punctured the stratosphere interrupted them. They all turned as one to see Nora pointing dramatically at Ilia from across the room. “The Demolisher is here!” 

Ilia, finally shaken out of her gay induced stupor, grinned wildly, baring her teeth. “You better believe it, Mountain Midget! You think I’d miss a chance to one-up your ass?!”

Blake, Yang and Pyrrha all watched her take off, barely remembering to kick off her shoes as she launched herself at Nora and immediately initiated a wrestling match. In the middle of Yang’s dining room. “My mom’s _never_ going to let me invite these heathens over ever again,” she lamented, smacking a hand over her forehead. 

“That’s definitely one way to describe her,” Blake sighed as she grabbed Ilia’s haphazardly tossed shoes and lined them up neatly on the shoe rack, bending down to pick up her discarded coat and hang it alongside her own.

“How long have you two been together?” Pyrrha asked politely, and _something_ just shot through Yang like an ice lance straight through the spine. She dropped her hand quickly from her face, studying Blake’s reaction. _Her and Ilia were together?_

Blake shook her head as she waved a hand. “Oh, no. No uh… we’re not together, no. Just friends. We’re really close though.” Yang felt her heart restart at Blake’s denial, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from Blake’s face. There was history between her and Ilia, that much was obvious. A kind of history that went deeper than _just_ friendship.

“Oh, my apologies! I shouldn’t have assumed,” Pyrrha apologized quickly, offering to take Ilia’s coat from her.

“It’s alright,” Blake reassured gently, finally stepping further into the house. “We've gotten that a lot, honestly.”

“Well, it’s obvious you two care deeply about each other,” Pyrrha said, gesturing them all towards the dining room. Yang let her take the lead, grateful for it almost as she processed Blake and Ilia’s friendship a little more deeply. 

She opened her mouth, stepping closer so she could ask her how long they’d been friends, when- 

“Alright!” Tai called out in his most commanding sort of baritone. He clapped his hands loudly, bringing everyone’s attention to himself for a few precious moments. “This is everyone, Yang?” Yang just nodded, trying to keep her eyes from drifting to the curve of Blake’s neck, the back of it partially exposed as she wore her hair up in a pretty half-ponytail, revealing a close-shaved undercut. She’d have to tell her later that it looked good. Great, even.

“Good, so we can get started!” he said, grinning warmly at everyone. “So, thanks to my lovely wife and daughters, we have an absolutely wonderful feast laid out for you guys. As per tradition-”

“One of our stranger traditions,” Yang put in, folding her arms as she rolled her eyes, a fond smirk crossing her face. Blake’s gaze shot back to her at the sound of her voice and Yang nearly choked.

“I get it, you want me to skip the speech,” Tai echoed with his own eye roll. “Well, alright. Nora, was it?”

Nora perked up _immediately_ upon being called, standing up straight and folding her hands demurely in front of herself. “Yes, Mr. Xiao Long sir?”

Tai chuckled, waving her into the kitchen. “Just Tai will be fine. Yang told me _specifically_ that I had to buy a whole turkey _just_ for you, if you wouldn’t mind-”

Nora’s eyes went as wide as saucers as she stared back at Yang. “Oh she _did_ , did she?!” she pretended to fan herself. “Finally… a woman who understands my needs! Ren, darling, we’re getting divorced, I’m so sorry it’s come to this.”

“Nora, please, no!” Ren slapped a hand to his breast, gasping dramatically. “This is all happening so fast!” 

“She cooked me a turkey, my sweetest love! I’m afraid I have but no choice but to swoon!”

“What in the fuck is happening right now,” Ilia blinked, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Nora and Ren as they continued their overblown Shakespeare-meets-period drama piece. 

“Like… _Nora_ I’ve come to expect this from, but this is a whole other thing. Especially from Ren,” Yang said slowly, her jaw hanging open a little. “You think this is what they’re like in the bedroom?”

“Gross, sister _no_. Stop. No sex talk! You’re supposed to remain my pure and unsullied role model for the rest of my life!” Ruby squawked, poking her head out from the kitchen.

“Then pretend you didn’t hear her!” a voice from deeper in the kitchen called out before a disembodied hand appeared from around the corner and grabbed the back of Ruby’s hoodie, yanking her backwards.

“Ah. That’s where Weiss went,” Pyrrha said lightly. “Terrorizing impressionable souls while pretending to be a model citizen to unaware parents. I should have known.”

“And you’re dating her anyway,” Yang pointed out as they sat themselves down around the dining table. Even though the table had been extended to fit the extra company, Yang still took her usual spot to the left of one of the end seats. Pyrrha settled down next to her left and Blake and Ilia sat across from them.

Pyrrha sighed dramatically before smiling fondly. “That I am. She has a very compassionate and sweet heart once you get past her apparent cold disinterest.”

“And she’s _really_ pretty,” Ilia blurted out. Blake turned to her, raising an eyebrow as a _knowing_ look crossed her face. “Uh, I mean like… totally objectively. Obviously.”

“Objectively, of course,” Pyrrha said, smothering a few giggles. “But don’t let her hear you say that - it’ll go to her head,” she finished in a stage whisper, winking conspiratorially in Ilia’s direction.

Ilia flushed a _deep_ red at Pyrrha’s gesture, sputtering and floundering in the gayest way in an attempt to find a response to _that_. Across the table, Blake ducked her head, covering her face as she laughed at her friend’s obvious struggle, her eyes flashing over to Yang, their eyes meeting in shared mirth.

Ilia was thankfully spared from further drama as Tai, followed by Nora and Weiss, made their way into the dining room, each of them laden with their own turkeys. “Alright ladies, gentlemen, other comrades in between-”

“Comrades?” Pyrrha leaned over, whispering in Yang’s ear. 

Yang nodded, leaning back into her unconsciously as she replied, “I made the joke _once_ when I told him that I don’t always feel like a girl and now it’s become a running theme.”

“-and with that, dinner’s on!”

The table _exploded_ to life as arms reached, utensils scraped and Noras shrieked. Everyone else raised their voices to compete with the banshee queen that Nora had turned into, and conversation almost became shouting matches. Yang just rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair as she waited out the chaos. Blake seemingly had the same idea, catching her eyes once again and lifting a shoulder in a loose shrug. Beside her, Ilia was enthusiastically piling her plate high with food, taking Blake’s plate for her without a single word and loading it up too, skipping past the creamed corn and a few other things.

Yang didn’t miss the way that Blake’s eyes turned to Ilia as she handed the plate back to her, words of thanks forgone in place of a gentle hand that settled somewhere low on her back. Yang blinked, _hard_ , as she focused back in on herself and her own plate, and tried not to notice the way that Ilia seemed to lean ever so easily closer into Blake’s side, or the way that neither of them seemed aware of the pink that dusted high on their cheeks.

Yang turned her attention to loading up her own plate, catching the tail end of something Pyrrha was saying across the table to Robyn and joining in on their laughter. It didn’t make her chest feel any lighter.

  
  


Blake and Ilia were the last ones to leave, with the obvious exception of Weiss and Pyrrha, whose voices drifted out from the kitchen, mingling with Summer and Ruby's. "Well," Yang said, tucking her hands into her pockets and offering a small shrug. “Thanks again for coming you guys.”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Blake said with a gentle smile. She nudged Ilia off of her shoulder for a moment as she pulled her coat on. “We had a great time.”

“Sure did,” Ilia nodded loosely as she tipped back into Blake’s arms the moment she had her jacket zipped up. Blake steadied her with an eye roll, pushing her jacket into her chest.

“Some of us more than others, apparently,” Blake said dryly as Ilia giggled, a bright flush of colour warming her cheeks once more, the way it had the entire meal. 

“Nothing wrong with that!” Yang reassured with another shrug, a smile edging her lips - if only because watching how Blake handled a tipsy Ilia was vaguely amusing. “You’re the one driving home though, right?” Yang double-checked.

“Of course,” Blake reassured, pulling her keys from her purse pointedly. Somewhere beside her, Ilia snorted as she dropped her coat. 

“Whoopsies, I’ll just-”

“You lean forward, you fall forward,” Blake sighed, planting her hand firmly on Ilia’s shoulder as she grabbed her as she picked up her jacket for her. “I know how this works by now, Amitola, c’mon.”

That question about how long they’d known each other floated to the edges of Yang’s mind once more, the way it had for the entire meal. Ultimately decided that it shouldn’t matter, that it really _didn’t_ matter. “Is she gonna be alright?” Yang asked instead as Ilia shook her head at herself for trying to put her jacket on upside-down somehow.

Blake’s eyes glanced over to her as she finally figured out which arm went into which sleeve. A fond smile lifted her cheeks, crinkling the corners of her eyes in the most adorable way. “Yeah,” Blake answered softly. “I’m looking after her.”

“That’s good,” Yang said, drawing Blake’s attention back to her for a moment. “I guess I’ll see you around school sometime?”

“I’ll text you, if that’s alright?”

Yang tried not to let her heart show itself by the way it nearly leapt out of her chest. “I - yeah. That’s more than alright. Totally,” she said, instantly knowing that she’d failed spectacularly by the way Blake’s eyebrow quirked at her. She swallowed back some awkwardness as her hand found its way to the back of her neck.

“I’m looking forward to that, then,” she said, tossing a farewell over her shoulder as she turned and helped guide Ilia down Yang’s driveway. 

They were nearly to the sidewalk, their forms disappearing into the hazy details of the lamplight, when Yang stuck her head out the door. “Text me when you’re home safe, okay?”

Blake turned, Ilia tucked closer into Blake’s side than before. From this distance, with the evening closing in around them, Yang couldn’t really make out her expression, but when she answered, her voice was gentle. Warm. “I will, Yang. And thanks again, for everything.”

“I - yeah,” Yang nodded, lifting a hand in farewell. “Yeah, you’re welcome. Have a good night, Blake, Ilia.” She waited a moment longer as Blake got Ilia into the passenger seat, watching Blake offer a brief wave before driving off into the night.


	5. emoticons and other mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang spends the holiday break messaging Iris. On New Year's eve, she invites her friends over for another party.

Snow fell outside Yang’s window as she lounged in her pajamas, still in bed despite having woken up over two hours ago. She hadn’t even gotten up to go to the washroom or get breakfast, too busy typing away on her laptop. She hit enter as she flopped back in bed, shifting her laptop up higher on her stomach so that she could still see the chat box.

A few moments later, Iris’ three little dots popped up on her screen. “Sounds like you were kind of an asshole back in the day, there Sunny :P”

Yang couldn’t help but laugh, snorting a little even as she grinned at Iris’ usage of emojis. She couldn’t help but copy it back to her, just to poke a little bit of fun at her. “:P :P :P I’ve taught you so well, I’m so proud.” Before Iris could respond, “And yeah, okay I guess I was. But that asshole totally had it coming, he ripped my sister’s superhero cape!”

“You were her hero, I’m sure,” Iris replied instantly. 

“Totally!” Yang answered, dropping a couple of muscle emojis. “Even back then I had more muscle than any of the boys and I used it all for _justice_!”

A few seconds passed before the speech bubbles popped up again. “Sure, because punching a kid and knocking out his two front teeth just for ripping your little sister’s cape sure sounds like justice to me.”

Yang sobered a little, recalling that day. She knew that she had acted out, but she had gone for too long dealing with snide comments about not having a _real mom_ and barely disguised looks of disapproval from other parents… it had all just ended up bubbling over. True, Ruby _did_ think she was the _bestest big sister ever_ and everyone left them alone after that - but the damage to her psyche had been done by then.

“Sunny?” Iris’ instant message pinged its alert. 

Yang shook herself, quickly returning her attention to her laptop. “Yeah, sorry about that,” she started, typing out some excuse about being distracted, or that her mom needed to talk to her for a second but… she didn’t even get close to the keys that would form the lies. “I was just remembering that day, honestly.”

“I’m here if you would like to talk about it more,” Iris said and Yang took in those words on her screen with familiar eyes. Iris often said things like that, said them in such a way that had Yang wanting to spill everything out of her soul like an upturned suitcase. _Here, take this, I’ve buried it away for so long that I forgot it was a part of my soul. Unearth me. Find out everything about me._

“I always want to talk to you,” Yang typed back thoughtlessly, hitting send before she could take it back. Before she knew she even _wanted_ to take it back. She slammed her hands onto the keyboard, rattled off two messages in quick succession. “I mean. Shit.”

“It’s alright,” she replied, almost just as quickly. There was a long pause as those three dots bounced in their little wave of anticipation. But when she finally sent her message, it wasn’t as long as Yang would’ve expected from the wait. “Talking to you is the best part of my day, honestly.”

Yang fought down a blush as she wiggled over her blankets, nearly knocking her laptop off of her stomach. “Okay,” she told herself firmly, “calm down, Xiao Long. Play it cool.” She cleared her throat, settled, and went to reply. “I still keep all of our emails saved too.” Wow. Could she confess any louder?

“I keep our emails too.” It was another long pause with a disproportionately short message attached to it. Yang could almost picture Iris - well, whatever the hell they looked like - hovering over their keyboard, a hesitantly excited smile lifting their lips. Maybe they had dimples? Cheeks dusted with freckles, or a nose that wrinkled when they laughed? While Yang daydreamed for a moment, another message from Iris popped up on screen. “I look back through them whenever I feel lonely.”

Could _they_ confess any louder? Yang’s heart raced, her fingers just about flying across the keyboard - when her door burst open with a _bang_ as it hit the doorstop. “Jesus! Ruby, what in the _fuck_?!”

“Look I’m bored, I was - calm down, sheesh - I want to get out of the house, wanna go Christmas shopping?” Ruby overrode her, tucking her arms deep into her sleeves as she approached Yang so she could whap her with them.

“Can you, like, leave me alone for just a minute?” Yang growled, carefully setting her laptop aside with one hand while catching one of Ruby’s sleeves in her other. 

“Sounds like _someone_ woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Ruby said as she tugged herself free. Cocked her head as she watched Yang turn her attention back to her screen. “Did you even get _any_ sleep? Come to think of it, you’ve been on your computer for like, the entire break. Have you even kept up with any of your training recently?”

“Don’t see the point in training,” Yang grumbled, her gaze drifting back to Iris’ message. She was probably wondering if she said something wrong - she was always careful like that, which was cute in a way. If something didn’t feel a little… _off_ about it.

“Don’t see the point in training?” Ruby parotted, visibly confused. “What, do they not have a club or something on campus you can join?”

“Even if they _did_ , I barely have time to breathe - much less sign up for anything extracurricular,” Yang shook her head, pointedly turning her body away from Ruby so she could continue her conversation with Iris.

“No time for extracurricular… except for whatever _that_ is,” Ruby said, pointing at Yang’s laptop. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had a secret girlfriend or something.”

Yang jolted, nearly upending her laptop. “Iris is _not_ my girlfriend!” 

Ruby’s eyes widened to comically large dinner plates as her jaw hung open, clearly devouring the juicy little tidbit that Yang hadn’t meant to drop. “Iris?!” she squealed, bouncing onto Yang’s bed like she was six all over again. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh _tell me about her please?!”_

Yang fended her off while hunching protectively over her laptop. Ruby was definitely not going to be giving up any time soon - or at all, if that exuberance was anything to go by - so she sighed heavily. “I _promise_ I’ll tell you-”

Ruby fist-pumped, nearly putting a hole through Yang’s wall. “ _Yes_!”

Yang overrode her firmly, “ _If_ you let me finish up my conversation with her in peace, alright?”

“As long as you agree that you’re gonna come shopping with me in a little while after you finish flirting with this mysterious _Iris_ ,” Ruby sing-songed.

“Yeah, yeah. Shopping, sure whatever,” Yang waved her off absently.

“ _And_ ,” Ruby added, sensing Yang’s distracted weakness and pouncing. “We go out for donuts after. And hot chocolate!”

Yang rolled her eyes, clearly seeing right through her. But it’d been far too long since they had a proper sister outing, just the two of them, so Yang let it slide. “Yeah, sure thing Rubes. I’ll even let you get the largest drink size. Just don’t tell mom, alright?”

“Woohoo!” she cheered, whooping as she threw her arms around Yang’s shoulders in a hug before bounding out of the room. 

Yang shook her head fondly before turning her attention back to the messages between her and Iris. She had only sent one message in the interim while Yang and Ruby talked, but it made Yang’s stomach drop all the same.

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t say anything wrong.”

Yang was quick to send out a series of messages to reassure her, frantically slamming the enter button, as if that would send the messages faster. “No, no no. No don’t worry. You did nothing wrong Iris, okay? My sister just came in to talk to me, that’s all.” Then, because she’d already made a fool of herself, “I think it’s really sweet that you save our emails. It’s like… it’s nice, y’know? Knowing that the things I say can actually help someone. That they help _you_.”

There was a long pause before Iris even started typing back. When she did, Yang could tell that she was still very clearly fixated on her earlier panic, “You can always tell me if I say something that makes you uncomfortable, you know. You don’t have to lie.”

 _...lie?_ Yang thought, wondering just where in the hell Iris had gotten that idea. _Was she…_ used _to being lied to?_ That made Yang’s stomach drop once again. “Just what have you been through, Iris?” she muttered to herself, her hands returning to the keyboard once more. “Hey, no, it’s okay. You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I promise. I’m really glad to have met you, y’know?”

“That we got matched up, you mean,” Iris replied, seeming as if she was trying to distance herself from the personal aspect of it all.

So Yang countered swiftly, “No, I really do mean that I’m glad to have _met_ you. I know it’s unusual and if anyone else were to see our emails or whatever, they probably wouldn’t understand. But somehow, I really feel like you’re my best friend, Iris. There’s just something so special about our conversations that really mean a lot to me, so. I’m glad to have met you.”

“That’s really kind of you to say, Sunny,” Iris said. “I admit, it is hard for me to open up to people at all but… there’s something about you that makes it feel safe, I suppose. I don’t know, maybe it’s just the situation, but part of me really wants to believe that it’s because it’s _you_.”

Without thinking, “What’s stopping you?”

At first, Yang didn’t think Iris was going to answer. That she’d pushed too far, gotten too comfortable with their back and forth and conversations late into the night and presumed that they’d gotten to the point that they could say anything without worrying about scaring the other off. Iris’ three little dots appeared on the screen, then vanished, then appeared on the screen and vanished again. 

She was about to amend her statement with a hasty withdrawal, an apology, a reassurance. The words were already on her fingertips. _I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. If you’re not comfortable, I understand._

Finally, “Myself. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought any of this up.”

“It’s not your fault,” Yang said. “I’m not upset, okay? We can talk about something else if you’d like. Or talk later. Whatever you need.”

“Do you have any plans for the holidays?” Iris asked.

Yang couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed in the sudden change in topic, but she had given her the chance to take that option and she respected that Iris needed space right in that moment. She could only hope that they could talk about it more later, whenever she was ready. Whatever _it_ was - because the direction that the conversation had been going before had started to swamp Yang’s stomach with nervous butterflies. Very nervous, very _excited_ butterflies. 

“I do, yeah,” she replied, forcing herself into a casual and totally calm state. “My sister wants to go Christmas shopping today. That’s what she came in to talk to me about.”

“Oh, I’m keeping you then, I’m sorry. You should go spend time with family,” Iris said, her chat bubbles appearing immediately after that message was sent.

Whatever Iris was about to say, Yang was pretty sure it would be something dismissive, so she quickly replied, “You’re not keeping me from anything. I want to be here, talking to you. I really enjoy talking to you, Iris.”

“I enjoy our conversations too, Sunny,” she said, and there was another long pause. Yang found herself trying to tamp down on her frustrations at that - not that Iris was making her upset or anything, but the fact that she couldn’t _really_ tell what was going on in her head, or whatever she really meant without a tone of voice to ascribe to the words. It wasn’t that Yang doubted her sincerity, far from it. But… well, sometimes Yang found herself wishing that she knew what her laugh sounded like.

“But you should go spend some time with your sister,” Iris finally said. “It is the holidays after all, you should be making the most of the time we have before the next semester starts.”

“I’d rather be spending time with you,” Yang typed out thoughtlessly and almost, _almost_ hit send. There was _something_ about that that felt a little too familiar, a little too intimate - and with the way Iris had pulled back from her earlier, Yang decided that sending a message like _that_ wouldn’t exactly be the best course of action right now.

Instead, “Yeah, there’s definitely a promise of donuts and hot chocolate involved afterwards. So I better get going.” She hated the feeling of loss even sending those words created within her, but she’d talk to her later - probably even tonight if their past habit of picking up a conversation when either one of them couldn’t sleep continued the way it had been. Before Iris could reply however, Yang quickly added, “You can still message me whenever. Or email! It’s still really nice to get emails from you, I don’t mind switching it up.”

“Maybe I’ll surprise you. Hm? ;)”

Yang blue-screened. If she hadn’t already been laying down, she absolutely would’ve collapsed to the ground. “I really shouldn’t have taught her about emoticons,” she mumbled to herself, fingers slack against the keyboard. “Uh, whatever you like! Sure thing,” she managed - after restarting her heart. “I gotta go. Talk later!” Then she slammed her laptop shut and immediately kicked herself. _They’re going to think you hate them now! Nice fucking going, Xiao Long._

She winced, gave herself a full body shake, and pulled her sorry gay ass out of bed. She left her laptop on her bed as she tugged on a pair of socks and called to Ruby down the hallway. Tonight, she told herself as Ruby bounded back into her room. Tonight she would make sure that Iris didn’t hate her. And also maybe see if she was starting to develop feelings for her - the same way that Yang was.

  
  


“So....,” Ruby started, clasping her hands behind her back as she leaned forward and swayed from side to side a little as they walked down the aisle of the hardware store. “ _Iris_ , huh?”

“You remember what tool it was exactly that Dad wanted?” Yang asked, pointedly ignoring Ruby’s incessant probing. It was the fourth time she’d asked since they’d gotten out of the car - which Summer had thankfully let them borrow due to the bike being parked in the garage until the spring. “Or was it a specific set?”

“ _Yang_!” Ruby pressed, poking her side.

“Alright, alright!” Yang sighed, rolling her eyes as she paused by the aisle with big heavy power tools. “Dad was totally talking about some woodworking project he wanted to do in the spring, wasn’t he? Ow! Fuck, okay,” Yang rubbed her arm where Ruby had punched her - there’d probably be a bruise. Teaching her the basics of a proper punch had been a good idea at the time, at least. “Iris, she…,” Yang started, trying to quantify everything she knew about her not-so-secret penpal that she definitely wasn’t developing feelings for.

So Ruby took the lead with the questions. “Do I know her? Is she one of your friends?” she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in a way that made at least one shopper turn and give a concerned glance. Ruby lowered her voice in a stage-whisper, “Is she one of your _super cute_ friends who was over at Thanksgiving?! What about Ilia? Starts with an I, also has four letters-"

“It’s not _like_ that,” Yang groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead in immediate regret. “I’ve never met her.” 

“You-?”

“You know how I joined that queer club on campus, right?” Yang said, frowning slightly as she tried to remember if she’d told Ruby about _Inqueeries_ at all - she’d been so busy with _everything_ lately. But thankfully, Ruby nodded and Yang continued, absently glancing over the prices of some of the power tools. They might even need to ask Summer to split the gift three ways. “Well, Pyrrha and Weiss-”

“Your super cool, super pretty friends who are both _way_ out of your league, yes.”

“Okay, first of all? Ouch. Second, yes those two,” Yang said. “They head up the club on campus and they had this anonymous penpal thing that you could join to pair you up with another student on campus - kind of as a way to connect different people from different majors that you otherwise wouldn’t normally meet while attending campus.”

“So you signed up,” Ruby surmised.

“Yes.”

“Because you’re lonely.”

“Ye- what?” Yang asked, taken aback. She frowned. “What makes you say that?”

Ruby shrugged, like she was trying to be casual. But Yang knew her sister better than that - something was up. “The past little while has been hard on you. With everything,” she said, her eyes glancing down to Yang’s arm. Only the fingertips of the prosthetic were showing through the fingerless gloves that Yang took to wearing, especially in the winter. “Kickboxing was your _thing,_ y’know? And after the accident, when you didn’t have that anymore….” 

Yang sighed, wrapping her arm around Ruby’s shoulder, hating how Ruby’s words made her once again acutely aware of the way it didn’t entirely feel natural all the time. Mostly she could ignore it, but when she thought about it too hard, or had attention drawn to the damn thing... she sighed again. “You’re too perceptive for your own good, y’know that Rubes?”

“Mom always says the same thing,” Ruby said, for once not wriggling away from Yang’s hugs. “She thinks I should go into psychology or something.”

 _Mom_. Summer. Even when Raven had been around, Ruby had never seen her as a mother figure. And why would she? She only ever dropped in for holidays, or whenever Yang had her kickboxing tournaments, or the rare occasion that Summer asked her to visit - on Yang’s behalf, of course. Right. 

“Well, you can do whatever you want after you graduate high school. Whatever makes you happiest,” Yang said, ruffling her hair fondly before letting her go.

“Yeah, and _you_ should do that too! And if Iris makes you happy-”

Yang shook her head. “Iris doesn’t want to meet me, Ruby. She said she wants to keep our identities secret from each other.”

Ruby tilted her head in confusion for a moment, then shrugged. “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t make you happy! And talking to her makes you happy… right?”

Yang scanned the shelf behind Ruby’s shoulder for a long moment, not really seeing anything. “Yeah,” she finally said. “Yeah, I guess it does.” But she wasn’t going to tell Ruby that as much as she really did love talking to Iris, she found herself aching for something a little more.

“C’mon,” she said, gesturing Ruby further into the store. “Let’s just get dad’s present and then head back. I want to make one more stop before we get home.”

"As long as the stop after _that_ is donuts and hot chocolate, like you promised earlier!"

"Don't worry," Yang laughed, nudging her playfully towards the shelves, sending her stumbling a little. "I've never gone back on a promise before, have I?"

“Okay, now that’s _definitely_ a sketchy building,” Ruby pointed to a building as Yang pulled into the parking lot. Its brick-front siding was falling into definite disrepair and iron crossbars were set over grimy windows. And Yang parked right in front of it. “Uh…. Yang?”

Yang turned off the engine and made to pop open her door before Ruby’s hand on her arm stopped her. “I’ll just be a few minutes, okay Rubes?” she said as nonchalantly as possible. 

“What is this place, exactly?” Ruby asked, her eyes flickering nervously back towards the building. Yang couldn’t exactly blame her, but she also knew that it was the only place that she wouldn’t get carded.

“Junior’s,” she explained, shifting slightly as she paused to reassure her. “He’s a friend of mine. I met him when his boys were reffing one of my matches. I’ll be quick.”

“Okay, but you never told me what this place is exactly,” Ruby said, narrowing her eyes slightly.

Yang sighed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get out of there without telling Ruby the truth. At least, most of it anyway. “It’s Junior’s business. He sells alcohol - but it’s totally above board and everything. He’ll sell to me though, since he knows me.”

“And… what’s this for again?”

“I never told you,” Yang said shortly, eager just to be in and out of there as soon as possible. Junior had always given her a sleazy kind of vibe - not that she couldn’t kick his ass if she wanted to, but she didn’t want to be sitting in front of his store any longer than necessary. She moved to get the door once again, but Ruby stopped her yet again, a firm hand planted on her shoulder this time.

“Is something going on, Yang?” she asked quietly, her eyes meeting Yang’s discerningly. 

Yang shook her head quickly. Probably too quickly. Whatever. “Nah, it’s nothing like that at all,” she said easily. “It’s just, I figured since we were out - well I was gonna host a New Year’s eve party at our place, as long as the parents don’t mind. I think it’ll be fine. Anyway, I just wanted to get something extra for people so they could all relax and enjoy themselves, y’know?”

“Do the parents know you’re doing this?” Ruby said.

“Wha- no! No, Ruby, this stuff isn’t gonna be for _me_ ,” Yang said, waving her question off. “I know the house rules, you don’t need to worry about that! I just want to make sure that everyone else has enough to have a good time, that’s all!” 

“Alright…,” Ruby finally said slowly, pulling her hand back from Yang’s shoulder. “If you’re sure.”

“ _Absolutely_ sure,” Yang said firmly, opening her door and swinging her leg out. “It won't take long. Trust me, I want to get out of here and get my hands on scrumptious donuts as soon as possible too.”

  
  


Christmas came and went with barely a flourish. It had always been a rather subdued holiday at the Rose-Xiao Long household ever since the accident that took Raven’s life, that caused the loss of Yang’s arm. Raven’s absence was always felt rather acutely at Christmas time in particular - it was one of the times that she _actually_ made an appearance, for one reason or another. As such, they’d always mark her presence by hanging a little stocking by the mantel. Like they were honoring her memory or some bullshit.

Yang secretly hated it.

Which was why she found herself huddled underneath a blanket by the fireplace, her laptop balanced precariously on her knees as she emailed Iris.

_She didn’t even die at Christmas time. The accident was several months later. Still enough snow and shit on the road to cause problems though. I don’t even remember much from that night really - I was hurt pretty bad. It was pretty late when she drove me and my dad home from one of my kickboxing tournaments and I was sitting in the backseat, watching them laugh. That’s one of the things I remember clearly. Whenever she was around, which wasn’t much to begin with, she always seemed so… angry. But that was one of the times that she seemed actually happy._

_I suppose the universe is cruel like that._

_Christmas was another one of those times. She’d be around every year for Christmas. I’m not sure why, maybe she felt obligated. Maybe she actually wanted to be around family. Maybe she just wanted to be around my sister’s mom. I don’t know. Whatever it was, we now have this dumb tradition where we hang a stocking for her alongside all of ours - as if she’s still a part of our family. As if she ever was._

Yang glanced up at the stocking as the wood in the fireplace burned low, the hum of the fan that kept the coals glowing the only noise in the dark living room. She promised dad that she would make sure to tend to the fire and close the glass-front door before heading to bed. That had been several hours ago. But she knew that she wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon with the memories swirling around in her head.

She brushed away an errant tear that stung her eyes and settled back against the frame of the couch.

_Anyway. That’s depressing enough for the holidays, I know. It’s just hard to pretend that it’s anything but a good time for me. For all of us, I guess but… things really changed for me all those years ago. It’s hard to act like things are alright now. And I feel like I don’t really have to act different or pretend around you, y’know? Like you said before, something about you makes me feel safe. I know I can trust you with all of this - with anything, really._

_But there are some good things I’m looking forward to for the last week of this break! I’ll be hosting a New Year’s eve party at my place with a bunch of friends from school, it’s gonna be a really fun time. Everyone says my parties are the best. At least, that’s what my sister says anyway._

_Which got me thinking… if you don’t have any plans for that night, would you like to come? I know what we said before, about wanting to keep our identities a secret - and it’s not that I don’t respect that decision still, it’s just… well. It’s been some time now, a couple months, right? And, I dunno, I was thinking that a little low-key party at my place would be a good place to meet. Or I could meet you somewhere neutral and take you from there? To convince you that I’m not a serial killer or a Republican or something awful like that._

Yang winced at herself, knowing that she was rambling out of pure nerves. She didn’t want to say anything that would scare Iris away, but she _really_ did want to meet her. If only because she could see herself spending hours and hours with them, sitting at some coffee shop until they were kicked out at closing, only to continue to huddle together on a bench at some nearby park, pressed close together to keep out the chill of the cold, so close that Yang could see the snowflakes melting on her eyelashes….

She groaned, dropping her head back onto the couch behind her and staring up at the ceiling. Dating. Yep. What she was thinking about _definitely_ fell into the dating category. 

She was _fucked_.

So she just tacked on something short and nonchalant to the end of her email and hit send.

_But if you’re still not comfortable with that idea, it’s totally okay with me! I just wanted to extend the offer to you - if you don’t have anything going on that night, of course. Either way, it’s fine by me! No pressure at all, okay?_

_Hope you holidays/break have been going well!_

_Yours Truly,_

_Sunny_

  
  


The next morning, Yang woke up to Iris’ response already sitting in her inbox. She checked the timestamp on it, wondering if she’d just missed it while getting ready for bed, or if Iris had replied shortly after she’d fallen asleep. 

_3:18AM_. 

Okay, that was a little strange - but not unusual. Her and Iris had stayed up until then and later a couple nights during the break chatting on the instant messenger. But for Iris to _email_ her that late at night set Yang on edge, just a little bit.

_Sunny,_

_That must be really hard to lose your birth mom like that. Even though it doesn’t sound like you two were all that close and that she wasn’t around, she was still alive for a major part of your life. I can’t say that I know exactly what it’s like, to lose a parent like that, but my best friend… she lost both her parents in a drunk driving accident. We were just kids when she heard about it, but it changed almost everything. She hides it better now, but I still remember seeing the pain on her face and wishing I could do anything to help her. I felt so powerless._

_I can only imagine how you felt, losing her and being injured in the same accident. I admire your strength, Sunny. It takes a lot of bravery to get back up and keep walking after something as traumatic as that. You should be proud of yourself for that._

Yang couldn’t help the small bubble of emotion that rose up her spine, shivered across her shoulders. She’d heard it all before from Tai, from Summer, even Ruby - but there was something so meaningful seeing it come from Iris. Iris, who was so considerate and thoughtful and sincere with everything they said, the meanings they conveyed. When Iris said something, you knew that they meant it with every fibre of their being, that they believed in it wholly. 

It was something that Yang found herself loving so very much about her. 

Yeah. She was _so very_ fucked.

_About your invitation to your New Year’s party though, I’m afraid I have to decline. I really appreciate the offer, it was very sweet of you to ask, but I already have plans for that evening. It’s been really lovely getting to know you over the past few months, but to be completely honest, I’m still not comfortable with the idea of meeting you in person. It’s nothing personal, Sunny, I can promise you that at least. Maybe one day I’ll explain it to you, but right now I’m too afraid to let anyone else in like that. I hope you can understand._

_Please forgive me._

_Iris_

Yang slumped back against her pillows, her heart a tangled mess. The spaces in her chest where the faint flutterings of desire and excitement just occupied were violently stomped out by an acute sense of loss, disappointment. Hurt. 

She tried to reason with herself that Iris wasn’t doing it to hurt her _personally_ , she’d said as much at the end of her email. But it still stung to read those words all the same. And she couldn’t stop that familiar fear from welling up once again, the one that whispered that maybe she wasn’t as important to Iris as Iris was to her. That maybe this would all end the way that things always did - with her abandoned and alone.

Rationally, logically, she _knew_ that that wasn’t the truth - that Iris was probably just dealing with her own demons, her own traumas the same as Yang. And that she should allow herself to be patient with them and give Iris the space they needed. 

Even still, it fucking sucked.

She decided to shelve her reply for a later time, when it didn’t sting so badly, when Yang didn’t feel like she was just being dismissed. Pushed to the side. She swiped her phone from her nightstand instead and decided to distract herself by making plans for the party.

  
  


A few days later, Yang was once again ushering her friends into her house. “Now, don’t you worry about us! We’ll be out of your way for the night so you guys can have your own fun up here, alright?” Tai reassured as Ren and Ilia stomped snow from their boots as they piled inside, having arrived in their pairs at the same time as one another. Just inside, Blake was hanging up her coat and brushing snow from the ends of her long hair as she pulled off a knitted toque with little cat ears. Nora, to no one’s surprise, had already found her way to the snacks. Yang watched with interest as she set two unlabelled bottles of dark liquid down at the end of the table.

“Little do they know that the _real_ party will be downstairs with the cool cats,” one of their neighbours from across the street, Peter, said with a truly horrific attempt at finger guns. Finger _gun_ , singular. Yikes.

“You’re welcome to join us any time if these _youths_ get too rowdy,” Summer offered to Robyn and Fiona. She glanced back at Peter and Bartholomew who were taking turns shooting each other, complete with high-pitched sound effects. “Though I can understand why you wouldn’t.”

“I think we may have to pass on that,” Robyn nodded, pursing her lips just slightly. “Unless you’ll have something better to drink than whatever these kids think qualify as _good_ alcohol.”

Summer hummed, excusing herself as she took Yang aside for a moment, pulling her away from her conversation with Pyrrha. “You remember the house rules, right?”

Yang folded her arms and frowned, trying not to let her guilty racing heart show on her face as she thought about the bottle of vodka and the mixer she’d bought tucked away in her closet. “I remember,” she sighed, trying not to roll her eyes. “I’ll make sure everyone has a DD too - since you don’t seem to be worried about keeping any of _them_ safe or making sure that _they_ don’t drink.”

“Yang, sweetheart-”

“Don’t worry, okay?” Yang said, trying to be casual as she gave her a quick side hug. “I’ll be sure to keep the degenerates in line. You and dad just have fun playing Uno or Connect Four or whatever it is boomers do to entertain themselves.”

“I resent that statement!” Tai piped up from around the corner as he headed downstairs with his arms full of his share of the snacks.

Summer shook her head, but Yang felt a small amount of relief when she saw her smiling fondly. “Alright then. You kids enjoy yourselves.”

Yang flashed her a double-thumbs up before making a beeline straight to the snack table. “Who wants to bet that I can beat Nora in a push-up competition?!” 

Nora’s eyes widened in disbelief as she cackled at Yang’s audacity. Tossing back a handful of sour gummy worms to fuel up, she dropped into a perfect plank high on her toes. “Be prepared to regret every decision you’ve ever made in your life, Xiao Long!”

  
  


As the hours passed and midnight drew closer, things started to get just slightly out of control. And definitely _a lot_ stranger. Which was how Yang found herself sitting at the snack table with three different pairs of staring at her in disbelief.

“There’s absolutely _no way_ you can tie five cherry stems with your tongue in under two minutes!” Weiss scoffed, taking a sip from her drink as she leaned in closer as she, Pyrrha and Blake all sat around the snack table together.

Yang took a sip of her punch that Robyn had offered to spike with some flavoured alcohol. She flashed them a confident smirk, “I _sure_ fucking can!” She winked pointedly across the table at Weiss as she continued, “Started practicing the second I heard about the trick to impress the ladies.”

“Well, now’s your chance to show off!” Nora shouted from across the living room, somehow listening in on their conversation even though she was playing a match of Wii Tennis with Ren. While facing _away_ from the screen. What a fucking weirdo. “I bet Pyrrha wouldn’t mind!”

Yang nearly choked on another sip of her drink as Weiss’ eyebrows shot to her hairline. “And what is _that_ supposed to mean, exactly?”

“She just means that your girlfriend’s hot, and who wouldn’t want a chance to impress her?” Yang supplied quickly, shrugging her shoulders. “And she’d be right, obviously.”

Weiss harrumphed, pushing back from the table and stalking off towards the kitchen. Yang vaguely heard her muttering something about her _being impressed by the right person_ as she disappeared from sight. Pyrrha stood, started to go after her but then shrugged and drifted back to the table.

“You’re… not going to go after her?” Yang asked, confused as Pyrrha settled in behind her, resting a warm hand on her shoulder. Mildly tipsy Pyrrha was even more touchy than sober Pyrrha, it seemed. Not that Yang minded.

Pyrrha just hummed. “She’ll be fine for a few minutes. I would like to see this party trick of yours, Yang.”

“Well, I, uh-”

Someone nudged the bowl of maraschino cherries towards her. Yang glanced up as the bowl slid to a stop in front of her and caught Blake’s devilish smirk at the other end of the table. _Fuck_. Blake had been so quiet that Yang nearly forgot that she had been sitting there, watching her this whole time. But now that she was aware of Blake’s eyes on hers, it was all she could do to keep herself breathing. 

“Are you going to prove yourself, or not?” Blake said, folding her arms on the table and leaning forward over them.

“Of course I am!” Yang exclaimed, affronted. She took another drink, the sweetness of the fruity alcohol coating her tongue pleasantly - she’d have to ask Robyn later what she’d given her. ”Yeah, I’ve got this, no problem!” She ducked her head, focusing on picking out five cherries with the longest stems - anything to divert her attention away from those eyes. 

“Go on then,” Pyrrha bumped into her shoulder from behind, leaning over her shoulder intently. Yang could _feel_ the way her ponytail brushed across her shoulder, the way she pressed into Yang’s back, the way she smelled like cinnamon and cider. Yang suppressed a shiver - even though she’d gotten over her schoolgirl crush on her, Yang didn’t think she’d ever really get used to Pyrrha’s utter captivating sort of charm.

“Yeah, yeah! Fine,” she said, plucking the cherries from the stems and tossing them one by one in Nora’s direction, who caught them all perfectly in her mouth even as she swung the Wii remote wildly behind her. _Match point!_ “Uh… someone set a timer, I guess?”

“I’ve got it,” Blake spoke up, and there was a sort of challenge in her voice - one that didn’t seem to match the moment that was laid out in front of them all. “Ready?”

Yang stared at her and forgot, just for a moment, what the hell she was even doing there in the first place. Blake quirked an eyebrow at her and the world narrowed, darkened - just a little bit. “Um, I…” she swallowed nervously, suddenly thrown by Blake’s intensity.

“C’mon, Fisticuffs!” Robyn called out as her and Fiona emerged from the kitchen carrying drinks. Yang regretted telling her that she’d gotten into university on a kickboxing scholarship - not that it had been doing her any good since enrolling. “I would like to know if I’ll ever find a contender worthy enough to beat my record someday.”

“Okay!” Yang flung her hands up in the air, outwardly frustrated but inwardly relieved at having a visible distraction to tear herself away from Blake, her golden irises and the unspoken spark between them. “Does _anyone else_ want to spectate this or something? Like, jeez.”

“Yeah, quit wasting time, Yang!” Nora called, somehow now on _top_ of the mantle, still swinging away. 

“How in the _fuck_ did you-?” Yang started, then stopped abruptly. Honestly, there was no point in bothering to even _try_ figuring Nora Valkyrie out. “Just don’t break anything up there, _please_ ,” Yang begged her, absently drinking more of her punch as she forced her eyes away from the nerve wracking sight of Summer’s hand blown glass figurines wobbling dangerously while she continued to swing the remote wildly. _And that’s the match!_

Dear gods.

“I’m going to start the timer,” Blake said, her finger hovering threateningly over the timer on her phone. “I, for one, can’t wait to watch Yang completely choke.”

Yang laughed nervously. “I mean, like… well, not _actually_ right….”

“C’mon Yang! Prove your shit!” Nora said as Ren dragged her along by her arm, passing the scene in the living room on their way to get some water from the kitchen.

“Okay, alright already,” Yang grumbled, swiping another cherry from the bowl and chewing on it, just to give her something to do for the moment. But then she glanced over at Blake again, and the challenge of _something_ \- of _more_ \- sizzled between them and she found that she couldn’t stall any longer. “Timer starts when I’ve got the first one in my mouth, alright?”

Blake nodded, setting the challenge and watched for Yang’s next move. Then waited.

 _They’re just cherry stems, moron,_ she thought to herself. Shook her head, then popped the first one into her mouth to the sound of overly enthusiastic cheers. She felt Pyrrha’s encouraging squeeze at her shoulder and settled into a rhythm of practiced movements of her tongue and, soon enough, the first stem dropped out of her mouth tied neatly. 

Yang finished the remaining four with an air of concentration and focus - though it was more a distinct focus of _not_ looking over at Blake, whose gaze felt smothering in the best of ways. “Finished!” she declared triumphantly, holding the last of the stems aloft.

“Impressive,” Robyn nodded, draping her arm over Fiona’s shoulder. “I’m sure _someone_ will find that useful someday.” 

Yang couldn’t stop herself from looking over at Blake even if she had all the willpower in the world. She found Blake already staring back. “Sure, yeah, uh…,” she fought down _another_ blush. “Someone.”

“You simply _must_ teach Weiss that trick, dear,” Pyrrha said from behind her, reaching over her shoulder and plucking off a few stems. “She sure could use the practice.”

“Um…,” Yang started slowly, still struggling to breathe under the ocean of Blake’s gaze. “Yeah, sure, I - anything I can do to help…”

“Hey Blake,” Ilia spoke up, poking her in the back as she walked over from the kitchen. “You still wanna play Mario Kart? There’s still time left before the countdown.”

Spell broken, Blake started and her head whipped sideways at Ilia’s touch. “Hm?”

“Mario Kart!” Ilia repeated, waving her hand in front of Blake’s face. “You alright over here?”

“Just fine,” Blake said quickly as she rose from her chair, grabbing a cherry out of the bowl and dropping it into her shirley temple - the whole reason that Summer had laid them out in the first place. “Where have you been anyway?”

“In the sunroom with Summer,” Ilia said, leaning in front of Blake to grab a handful of chips from across the table. “I bumped into her while I was getting some punch and… I dunno, we just ended up sitting down and talking. It was really nice,” Ilia smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She glanced across the table at Yang who was still sitting down, her small pile of cherry knots on the napkin in front of her. “You’re really lucky to have a mother like her, y’know.”

Yang suppressed a twinge of guilt as she smiled back with the same kind of weight. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Sometimes I still think I don’t deserve her.”

“You shouldn’t say that, Yang,” Pyrrha said gently, wrapping her arms around Yang’s shoulders and dropping her chin onto the crown of her head. “She loves you. We can all see that.”

“I… yeah,” Yang said, fighting a frown. This was _supposed_ to be a party, damnit. To ease the lump in her throat, she reached up and squeezed Pyrrha’s hand that was draped around her shoulders. “I know,” she finished softly, brushing her thumb across Pyrrha’s soft skin. “Thanks,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry Yang, I didn’t mean to-” Ilia started awkwardly with a wince.

“No, no. It’s alright,” Yang said, waving her off. She stood from the table, rolling her shoulders back as she grinned over at her, meeting Blake’s eyes over Ilia’s shoulder. “Let’s just have some fun, alright?”

“I believe I heard you say something about… Mario Kart?” Blake said, arching her eyebrow at Ilia, who ducked her head and blushed.

“I might’ve suggested something like that, yeah…”

“It’s been awhile,” Blake said, stretching her hands above her head cockily, her shirt rising up above her bellybutton, exposing smooth skin and a strip of toned abs. Yang swallowed, forcing her eyes away. “But I’m pretty sure I’ll still be able to beat your ass without even breaking a sweat, Amitola.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you always cheat!” Ilia managed to squeak out, her eyes darting rather obviously away from Blake’s midriff. _Yeah, same._

Yang cleared her throat, smirking like she was in control and totally not inwardly melting. “Well, I think I might know a way to level the playing field.”

  
  


Ilia crossed the finish line, punching the air dramatically as she shouted. “Ha! Fucking take _that,_ Belladonna!” she crowed. “First! What do you have to say to that?!”

Blake dropped her controller, momentarily stunned. “Well I… I say that you didn’t actually win! No, look - your drink isn’t finished!” she reached in front of Ilia and held her glass aloft between them at eye level. “There’s still totally a couple sips left here!”

“That’s not how the game works, Ilia!” Pyrrha joined in, her cheeks rosy and her chest flushed. Yang thought she looked super pretty like that, too busy watching the mischievous glimmer shining in Pyrrha’s eyes to notice the way that Blake watched her even as she continued to taunt Ilia.

“I’m pretty sure I saw her drinking and driving too,” Yang said pointedly. “Which is _illegal._ You’re supposed to only drink when you’re at a complete stop! Like I did!” She held up her empty glass as proof, even as her screen showed her in dead last.

“I mean… you still definitely lost, Yang,” Blake said with a sympathetic shrug.

“Oh well! Luckily I have such good friends around me to support me in this trying time,” Yang sighed dramatically, flopping over across Pyrrha’s lap as she reached up and played with the ends of her long ponytail, consumed by giggles. Whatever drink Nora had mixed for her to play drunk Mario Kart must've been _strong_ 'cause Yang was pretty sure that Yang was no lightweight. 

“Fat chance, dummy!” Nora yelled, vaulting over the back of the couch and practically bowling both her and Pyrrha off the couch and onto the floor, sending them crashing into a heap of tangled limbs together. “You totally lost and now it’s my turn to _crush you all_!” 

Yang just kept laughing, feeling lighter than she ever had in a long time. She tried to rearrange her limbs so that she could sit up properly, only to come face to face with Pyrrha leaning over her. “Oh, hey there. Come here often?” she said, trying to be smooth as she propped herself up on an elbow, only somehow managing to miss the floor entirely and ended up face-planted directly into the carpet again.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I totally admit it! You were right, you won fair and square Blake!” she heard Ilia say as Pyrrha helped her sorry definitely Not A Lightweight intoxicated ass upright. “You can still play this round, I’ll give my controller to Ren!”

“It’s okay, I’m going to get another drink anyway.”

Yang finally got herself upright to catch sight of Blake disappearing into the kitchen. “I’ll be right back, Pyrrha,” Yang said abruptly, pushing back from her and wobbling a little as she stood, then followed after Blake.

“Punch, sweet. That’s a good choice,” Yang nodded as she leaned against the counter in attempted nonchalance. “Summer’s specialty, y’know.”

Blake froze as she set her glass down on the island, dropping the ladle back into the punch bowl with a loud clatter. “What did you want, Yang?”

Yang frowned, tipping her head sideways in confusion at Blake’s biting tone. Had she done something to piss her off tonight? She couldn’t really remember. “Is something wrong?” she asked. Best to just be direct. 

“No, everything’s fine,” Blake said, turning to her and flashing her a tight smile that didn’t at all reach her eyes. Her pretty golden eyes that Yang wanted to get lost in. That she _had_ gotten lost in, so many times tonight. Why did they look so dark now? “I’m having a really nice time at your party. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She picked up her glass and headed back out into the living room.

“I… what?” Okay, now she was _really_ confused. 

“She didn’t look too happy,” Ruby said as she poked her head into the kitchen.

“Where the hell have you been tonight?” Yang turned to her, pouring herself a glass of punch. Tried not to think about the fact that Blake had touched that ladle just a few moments ago. _Stupid_.

“Downstairs,” she shrugged casually.

“With the _adults_?” Yang pulled a face. “Oobleck and Port, seriously?”

She shrugged again. “I guess I just wasn’t feeling up to hanging out with a bunch of people getting drunk and acting stupid.”

Yang felt something cold drip down into her gut. “Listen, Ruby-”

“I wasn’t going to tell, don’t worry,” Ruby said, but her tone was still flat. Unimpressed. Maybe even a little sad. “And I know you’re responsible enough and you’re staying home and you trust everyone here, it’s just… it’s a little strange, that’s all. You’ve had fun without it before, haven’t you?”

“I have,” Yang said carefully, trying to figure out how to best reply in a way that wouldn’t make Ruby even _more_ concerned. “Things have just been really tough at school lately, okay? It’s been hard to adjust and I just… I dunno. I wanted to let loose a little. Have some fun. Relax. You get that, right?”

“I get it, yeah,” Ruby nodded slowly before turning away from her and going to the sink to fill a glass. She handed it to her, making sure to meet her eyes as she continued, “I just want to make sure that you’re not doing anything you’ll regret later, okay?”

Yang set down the glass for the moment as she pulled her sister in for a hug, tucking her head into her chest and closing her eyes against the familiarity. “You don’t need to worry about me, sis. That’s my job, right? That’s always been my job,” she told her quietly, pressing a kiss to her temple as she stepped back.

“But who’s going to look after you?” she asked.

Yang picked up her water and took a long drink - anything to keep her from shedding the tears that sprung in her eyes at Ruby’s sincere question. Because she didn’t have an answer to her question. She felt like she never really did have that answer.

Yang returned to the Mario Kart marathon a lot more sober than she had been when she left it only a few short minutes ago. The alcohol still blazed in her veins, making everything feel shifted and not quite in touch with reality, but the dark questions and thoughts that Ruby brought to the surface hounded her mind, dropping her back into an uncomfortable awareness of herself.

“Yang, get back in on this!” Pyrrha called out to her, giggling. “Weiss is absolutely _horrible-_ ”

“Hey! You keep distracting me, it’s hardly fair!”

“It’s not Pyrrha’s fault that you’re such a useless lesbian!” Ilia snickered, her tank top exposed after her purple plaid long sleeve had been shedded a long time ago as the temperature in the living room had risen from the number of bodies squished around the TV.

The three of them devolved into a playful argument, Blake sitting in the center of it all watching with mild bemusement. Yang tried to catch her eyes, tried to share the moment with her, but she deliberately avoided her eye contact, nudging Nora with her toe to suggest that they just start another round without them.

Yang sighed, shook her head as her heart dropped and pulled out her phone. 

_I know you said you had New Year’s eve plans,_ she started, feeling stupid. All her friends were here, surrounding her, and yet all she could think about was the one person she could really confide in. _But mine aren’t going as well as I thought they would._

_There’s someone that I really like but I don’t have the guts to say anything to her about it. I was thinking about asking her if I could… y’know. Kiss her at midnight. But who am I kidding? She has a girlfriend anyway, so it’s not like it matters. Even though she’s been looking at me like she wants me too. God. It’s so confusing. The way she gets close to me, the way she touches me, the way she’s so gentle. It’s… a lot, all at once. I can’t really handle it._

_I don’t even know if I’m making any sense anyway, I think I’ve had a bit too much to drink. I haven’t even really gotten drunk at all before, did you know? My parents won't let me. They won't tell me why either. But I just wanted to have fun tonight. Maybe they were right. I don’t know. I just don’t know._

_And I don’t even know why I’m emailing you either. I guess ‘cause you’re the only thing that kind of makes sense right now. And it’s nice that you’re here. Even though you’re not here. You’re probably halfway across the city or something at your own party. I hope you’re happy tonight. So at least one of us is._

She hit send with a sigh just as Weiss buried her face in her hands with a defeated groan while Nora whooped in the background. Pyrrha plucked the controller from Weiss’ hands and waved it towards Yang enticingly. “C’mon, Nora’s winning streak is getting embarrassing. Get in here, pretty lady!”

“Alright, alright,” Yang shook her head, couldn’t help but smile in spite of herself as she crossed over to the couch and settled herself on the floor, taking Weiss’ place against Pyrrha’s legs. “She’s totally going down.”

In the corner, where Blake and Ilia had tucked themselves away against each other, Blake’s phone lit up with a notification from _Hermes_. Blake glanced at her screen, then across the room at Yang, her eyes going wide in realization.

  
  


Yang watched the clock tick closer to midnight with anticipation swirling in her stomach. She took another steadying gulp of her drink, felt it burn down her throat. Relished the loss of control. Just for tonight, all the wanted was to be a stupid college student who just wanted to kiss their crush on New Year’s Eve. But more than that, she just wanted to give in, to be selfish for even the briefest of moments. 

She deserved that. After everything she’d been through, surely she deserved that.

She tossed back the rest of her drink as the clock shuddered closer to midnight. Her eyes darted around the room, scanning the now significantly subdued party as couples split off, drew closer to each other as the new year neared.

“Hey,” she cut in, tapping Pyrrha on the shoulder with more desperation than she would care to admit. 

“Excuse me-” Weiss snapped, affronted as Yang’s interruption jolted her off of Pyrrha’s shoulder.

“Look, sorry, I just - have either of you seen Blake?” Yang asked quickly, her eyes shooting to the clock on the mantel. 11:59. Fuck.

Pyrrha’s eyes lit up in immediate understanding. “I saw her go upstairs last,” she grinned, settling an arm around Weiss’ shoulder soothingly. “Good luck!”

Yang barely heard her. 

She charged up the stairs, her palms sweating an _embarrassing_ amount in the few seconds it took her to reach the landing. If she had spared even a single thought for Pyrrha’s words, she would’ve logically realized two things - that there was nothing upstairs except for bedrooms and a bathroom. And that both of those places would’ve been perfect for two people to go if they’d had wanted some privacy.

As it was, her mind was racing thirty seconds into the future thinking about the words she would say, how cute Blake would look as she blushed, the way her lips would feel against her own-

She crashed into the first door that was left ajar and immediately stopped dead. Those thirty seconds from the future shattered right in front of her eyes as she found Blake standing in front of her - and pressed together in a close embrace with someone who most definitely was _not_ Yang. 

“Uh-”

Blake was the first to startle away at the interruption, twisting away from her New Year’s eve partner. Ilia. Blake was kissing Ilia. Of course. Of _course_ she was, of course Blake was kissing Ilia. It all made sense.

Except that it didn’t. Not even close.

“Yang-” Blake started, in desperation. “This isn’t-”

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you!” she practically shouted as she whirled around, slamming the door on them as she did. It sounded like canonfire in her ears. She had to get out of that hallway, she had to do something about the image of Blake - Blake _kissing_ Ilia. She had to get it out of her head. She had to forget about it. Immediately. Desperately. Entirely. 

_Nora_ , she realized, turning to head back down the stairs. Nora would have something like that. If there was anything left of the stuff she brought. Had to be. Ren was so responsible, he wouldn’t have let Nora drink all of it. He was very responsible like that.

“Nora!” Yang yelled as she stumbled down the stairs. “Nora, where’s that-!” She craned her neck around the bannister, leaning over it precariously as she scanned the room and what little she could see of the kitchen from her vantage point. Since it was still very much only a few moments past midnight - cheers of _happy new year_ forgone in place of a very different kind of jubilation - all she could make out were different pairs tucked away in different private places.

The way Blake and Ilia had been. She should’ve seen that coming. She _did,_ even. Just didn’t want to believe it. Because of course they were-

“I hope you folks don’t mind us coming upstairs and interrupting all the fun here to wish you a happy new year!” Yang jerked in shock at her dad’s voice, just barely managing to catch herself on the railing and keep herself from tipping over and falling a half-flight onto the floor. She whirled around, a little dizzy and _a lot_ disoriented, to see her parents coming up from their own little party with Port and Oobleck. And Ruby.

 _Oh shit._ She’d forgotten all about them.

Okay. Act normal. 

“Yeah, happy new year dad!” Yang replied loudly, walking down the stairs to give him a hug, keeping her hand on the railing to keep her balance. Not suspicious at all.

Over her parents shoulders, Yang caught Ruby’s giving her a look that she didn’t really want to think about. “We’re totally all having a great time up here, yep!” she said, forcing energy that she didn’t really feel into her voice. “Lots of happy people up here, absolutely!”

Tai braced his hands on Yang’s shoulders, pushing her out of the embrace with a discerning frown on his face. But before he could ask, Summer stepped in. “Yang, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

 _She’s kissing someone else. It’s fine._ “Nothing!” Yang shook her head, blinking away tears and hoping her eyes weren’t glassy. “Everything’s fine! It’s the new year, it’s happy! Obviously.”

Tai’s frown grew deeper and he stepped in closer, took a couple sniffs of her breath and grew deadly still. “Yang Xiao Long,” he said, quiet. “Have you been drinking?”

Yang froze for a split second, an animal just before it became roadkill. She knew she wouldn’t be lying her way out anything this time - she was obviously horrible at it anyway. “Why shouldn’t I?!” she snapped, ripping his hands off of her shoulders as she stepped back. Folded her arms and stared up at him defiantly. “Why’s it matter!”

Summer stepped in to tag team. “You’re under our roof-” she started to explain, her tone gentle like she was trying not to startle her daughter any further. That was somehow _worse_.

“Everyone else is drinking! They’re all being responsible, no one’s going to drive if they’ve been drinking - _I_ made sure of that!” Yang gestured to herself wildly, her voice rising. Heads were starting to turn towards the commotion. “Since apparently I’m so different from them that I can’t drink even though I’m staying home!”

“We just want you to be safe, sweetheart-”

“Yeah, I get it! You just want to protect me, right?” Yang sneered. On the landing above her, Blake and Ilia poked their heads around the corner. Yang shifted so that her back was to them, focusing in on Summer and Tai. “I’m so fragile, I already lost an arm and now you have to bubble wrap me, right?”

“That’s not it at all, Yang,” Tai cut in, his voice as stern as she’d ever heard it in her life. “We’re just trying to protect you. There are things that you don’t know-”

“Then _explain_ them to me!” Yang shouted. “Give me _one_ good reason why I shouldn’t be drinking even though everyone my age does it! Unless you can explain _one thing_ -”

“Because none of their mothers were alcoholics, Yang!”

Everything froze in the space around Yang. _Raven. She wasn’t… no._ There were pieces just waiting to fall into place even as Tai clenched his jaw shut tight, unable to pull back the truth that was laid bare in front of them. 

Yang shook her head, hot tears splashing down her cheeks. Everything ruptured and a broken sob escaped her lungs as she shoved her way up the stairs, pushing Blake and Ilia apart as she took refuge in her room and slammed her door shut. Buried herself under her covers and tried not to think about anything at all.


	6. an old flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake had made her mistake. Now she had to live with it - and hope that she didn't hurt anyone else.

Blake woke up the next morning more than a little hungover. She groaned and rolled over, limbs heavy like concrete as they tangled amongst her sheets.

And around someone else’s body. Someone else who was in her bed.

She shot straight upright, so accustomed to sleeping alone that warm skin against her own sent her into a muddled panic. The last time anyone had shared a bed with her was…

 _No_. She took a deep breath. Steadied herself. _He was in jail. He’d_ been _in jail for the last nine months._

“Blake?” a rough voice asked, muffled from the pillow - _Blake’s_ pillow - and thick with sleep.

Blake glanced over, memories of last night seeping in with the weak morning light that streamed through the threadbare curtains. Ilia. Ilia was laying beside her, sun hitting her bare back in patches and highlighting the freckles that dusted across her shoulders. Blake used to love tracing patterns through those freckles when they were younger. She remembered dreaming about kissing similar pathways too. Kissing her all over.

The same way she had kissed Ilia last night. At Yang’s party.

“Hi,” she said, hating how small she sounded, like she was fourteen again and barely knew what love was. 

“Hey,” Ilia said carefully as she turned over and sat up slowly. Blake tried not to look at her bare chest, or the way that Ilia’s hair fell messily over her shoulders, barely hiding the dark purple marks that Blake had left along her neck and breasts. “What’s wrong?”

 _I shouldn’t have kissed you._ “I… just not used to it, I guess,” she gave, swallowing down the rest of the truth. The truth that would cling to her in the form of the image of Yang’s twisted expression as they locked eyes for the briefest of moments over Ilia’s shoulder.

“Oh,” Ilia murmured, wrapping her arms around Blake’s middle, her fingertips swirling comforting spirals at the small of Blake’s back. “Does it… bring back bad memories?”

Blake _shouldn’t_ have kissed her. But Ilia was safe. Ilia knew of her past, what Adam had done to her, what he had put her through - Blake couldn’t risk putting anyone else in Adam’s path by getting close to _her_. Ilia was already here. She was safe. And that’s why Blake had kissed her.

“No,” Blake said forcefully, shaking her head. She shifted just slightly so she could return the embrace, and felt Ilia’s breath hitch as Blake’s palms settled against the plane of Ilia’s hip. “Not bad memories. Better ones,” she amended as she dipped her head and pressed a kiss to those sun-warmed freckles. “Ones of us.”

“Mmm. I’m glad,” Ilia hummed into her hair as she returned the affection, her hands splaying flat against the curve of Blake’s ass and leaning back so that she pulled Blake back down into the bed with her. Blake followed her, ignoring the way that Yang’s eyes still shone with such hurt in her mind’s eye, and pressed Ilia’s body against the mattress.

On the floor, where her phone had fallen in her haste to get to bed the previous night, the screen lit up with a text from Yang. Blake ignored that too.

  
  


What was harder to ignore were the emails. She’d managed to ignore looking at her phone for the remainder of the break - what few days of it were left anyway - and focus on spending time with Ilia. It was surprisingly easy to rekindle those old feelings, to relive those old memories of their first year of high school and pretend that things had never broken between them. To pretend that the ghost of Adam’s destructive touch never pulled them apart.

Blake felt herself healing, just a little, as she spent more and more time with Ilia. Hours slid by easily, comfortably, and it was _good_ . Simple. Safe. And Blake told herself she could get used to it, could fall into those old patterns again and pretend that she was happy. Because she _was_ happy with Ilia. She was. 

And she would’ve been able to keep lying to herself if it weren’t for her emails with Sunny. The same Sunny that she now knew was actually Yang. The same Yang who had confessed that she had _feelings_ for someone last night - someone with a girlfriend.

Blake could only assume that she had meant Pyrrha - she _was_ dating that girl Weiss - and Pyrrha and Yang had been eyeing each other up all night. From what Blake knew of Pyrrha through Ilia’s account, she didn’t _seem_ like the cheating type. But maybe she just wanted a threesome. Or maybe it was something more. Either way, nothing else but Yang’s interest in Pyrrha made sense in her mind.

Suffice it to say, Blake had found that replying to Sunny’s emails now _knowing_ that she was actually communicating with Yang was even more difficult now. But she also couldn’t just abandon the emails out of nowhere because Yang didn’t know that _she_ was Iris. And it wouldn’t be fair to leave her in the dark like that - so she’d have to keep emailing as if nothing was wrong.

All while avoiding her on campus. 

To make things _easier_ on herself, she decided to throw herself into her studies. She’d always been able to find solace in the stories that took her to other worlds - even if sometimes that world was the history of her own - and she sought comfort and distraction within their pages. She became a constant fixture in the campus library - to the point where the librarian knew her _and_ Ilia by name, often turning a blind eye to the way that Ilia would bring in various food and drink for her _very studious girlfriend_.

Blake didn’t have the heart to tell either of them that she was failing several of her classes because she couldn’t focus on the words that often blurred in front of her eyes.

Once, in a moment of weakness, in a bathroom stall as Ilia licked Blake’s taste from her fingers, Blake couldn’t stop herself. “I miss her.”

Ilia glanced up at her as she buttoned up Blake’s jeans for her. Her eyes were still dark from desire, but there was discernment in her gaze as she pressed a kiss to her Blake’s cheek. “Yang?” she murmured against her skin. She didn’t sound sad. Or upset. She didn’t sound like anything at all.

Blake nodded, wrapping her arms around Ilia’s constant frame and pulling her in close. She _knew_ that she shouldn’t be allowing herself to take comfort in Ilia, _especially_ not after the fact that she just said that she missed another woman after her girlfriend had just made her come. But she couldn’t stop herself. “I don’t think she wants anything to do with me anymore.”

Ilia was far too sweet, far too loyal, far too sacrificial to pull away. Even though she should’ve. Blake would’ve more than deserved that. “It’s okay to miss her, you know,” she murmured in Blake’s ear, her breath hot against the skin she had just had her lips all over. “I know you guys were close. I think she just needs some time. That’s what Pyrrha said the last time I talked to her at the last Inqueeries meeting.”

Blake hummed quietly, threading her fingers absently through Ilia’s hair. It was hardly the place for a moment of intimacy, in the handicap stall of a bathroom, but Blake didn’t really feel like moving, and Ilia didn’t seem to mind. She had a feeling that no matter what happened to them, Ilia would be right by her side even still. 

She really shouldn’t take that for granted. 

“Would you like to come with me to one?” Ilia asked quietly, opening her eyes lazily as Blake played with her hair. When Blake’s answer wasn’t forthcoming, she continued. “Yang comes every once in awhile, y’know.”

“I-” Blake started almost immediately. She winced inwardly. Ilia would see right through her. She’d realize soon enough - maybe she had already - that Blake had feelings for Yang. And even though she loved Ilia, _deeply_ loved her, she knew it wasn’t the same anymore. That she wasn’t able to recapture the old flame that had been snuffed out too early by Adam’s manipulative abuse.

Ilia had to know that Blake was only playing a waiting game with her. That she was dancing them both ever closer to the edge of a cliff - and that she’d end up throwing them both over it. “No,” she finally said, after too long, much too long. “No, that’s okay. I doubt she would want to see me after what I did.”

A dark shadow crossed Ilia's face for the briefest of moments. It disappeared quicker than Blake could place it, but a frown still remained. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

 _I kissed you. I kissed you because I'm broken._ "I…," Blake tried, heart stuttering and nervous. She could lose Ilia too, right here. "I think she has feelings for me, Ilia," Blake said, coming up with the quickest excuse possible. Even though she already knew that it was a lie because of that email. "And when she saw me kiss you… I think that really hurt her."

"Oh," Ilia replied slowly. "So you're saying that it's just about Yang. That's all?"

Something _ugly_ curled in Blake's gut. Ilia deserved to know the truth. Why Blake had kissed her, why they were together like this. "It's just about Yang, sweetheart," Blake answered, pressing a kiss to the side of her temple. Told herself that she could pretend a little longer, and pulled Ilia back into her arms.

  
  


Weeks after Yang’s party, Blake finally decided to chance a return to the pool. She hadn’t gone for any of her usual morning swims since that day, because the pool, a place that was previously set aside for her to unwind alone, had transformed into somewhere she and Yang often shared peaceful moments in each other's vicinity as Yang ran on the track above and Blake dove under the water below.

But maybe that was why she was back here now. Because, secretly, she allowed herself to hope that all her hard work to avoid Yang would be decimated by this one act of returning to familiar ground. 

When she stepped out of the change room, water streaming from her hair from the pre-pool rinse, Yang wasn’t anywhere to be seen on the track above. No one was - hardly anyone was crazy enough to be awake at this godforsaken hour. She sighed heavily, trying not to feel like gravity was collapsing inwards on her, and dove into the deep end.

And wished, just for a moment, that she could drown in it.

  
  


Ilia was waiting for her by the time Blake finished showering and drying off. Blake started, towel still wrapped around her shoulders to keep her shirt from getting wet, as she spotted Ilia leaning against the wall outside the change room. “Ilia,” Blake called out as she walked over to her. Confused, “I - what are you doing here? It’s still early - is everything alright?”

“I…,” she began slowly, reaching out and pulling Blake securely into her arms. Took a moment there to breathe as she leaned her head against her chest. “Would you like to go get breakfast?”

Blake hesitated, leaning back so she could look into Ilia’s eyes. “Of course we can, but-”

Ilia shook her head slightly, a small frown cornering her lips. “Not here. Not right now. Okay?”

Blake hummed. Eventually nodded. Pressed a kiss to her forehead before slipping her hand into Ilia’s and pulled her along. “C’mon. I know somewhere we can go.”

“Y’know, it’s funny,” Ilia said as Blake held the door to The Honeypot open for her. “All these months on campus, I can’t believe I’ve never been here.”

“It’s really nice,” Blake said as she led them to a booth tucked away in the corner. There weren’t very many people here at this hour, just a few bleary eyed students who looked like they’d pulled an all-nighter, but Blake wanted to make sure they had the privacy. “Yang and I used to come here all the time in the morning. Well, before…”

Ilia was quiet for so long that the waitress - thankfully not Neon, Blake didn’t think she would’ve been able to tolerate her at this early hour - came by and took their drink orders from them. Blake ordered her usual cup of jasmine tea while Ilia ordered black coffee. Finally, after a moment of toying with the corner of her menu, Ilia spoke up, “Do you remember, when we were kids, how we’d play in your parents' kitchen?”

Blake let the tension fall from her shoulders as she slipped back into their memories. “Of course I do,” she murmured, settling her hand against Ilia’s knee under the table. “We used to steal all the blankets from the living room and dragged them over to the table to make a fort for ourselves. Drove my dad crazy,” Blake chuckled, remembering the way her father would pick her up and toss her playfully out onto the couch, Ilia sailing through the air shortly behind. 

Ilia smiled, even as sadness tinged at the corners of her lips. “We fought so many monsters, rescued all those princesses, rode valiant steeds…,” she sighed. “Life was so simple back then. Back when the monsters weren’t real. And when I was the only princess you rescued.”

The implication laid heavy in the air between them, and Blake found herself needing to pull her hand away from Ilia’s leg. She set her hands atop the table, folding them precisely just as the waitress set their drinks down in front of them. Asked them if they were ready to order. Blake knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the rest of this conversation on an empty stomach, so she took the liberty to order for them both - Ilia’s order hadn’t changed since their junior year anyway.

“Thanks,” Ilia mumbled, taking a sip from her coffee. She didn’t sound annoyed or derisive. Just tired. So very tired. 

“Ilia, I know what you’re going to say-”

“Just let me talk anyway,” Ilia snapped for the briefest of moments before sighing, her shoulders falling visibly as she dug her fingertips into her temple. “I’m sorry, I… this is hard for me. After Adam, I… I never thought I’d ever see you again. And then I get you back for a little while, only now to feel like I’m losing you again, it’s just…”

“You’re _not_ losing me, Ilia,” Blake said vehemently. Of that _one thing_ she was certain. They’d been through too much to lose each other again. “It wasn’t my choice before - he _didn’t give me that choice_. But it’s my choice now, and I’m choosing you.”

Ilia looked over at Blake with such sad eyes as she reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Blake’s ear, fingertips skimming over the fuzz of Blake’s undercut before cupping her cheek in her palm. “But not the way I’m choosing you,” she said, her voice heavy. 

Blake closed her eyes, leaned into her touch. “ _Don’t_ ,” she just barely whispered. “Ilia, please, I… I still need you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Blake,” Ilia said firmly, rubbing her thumb against her cheek, collecting the single tear that had dropped from the corner of her eye. “I promise, okay? I’m still here.”

“But… why? You should hate me for _all_ of this - it’s happening all over again-”

Ilia took another sip of her coffee, shaking her head. “I used to really hate black coffee, y’know.”

Blake stumbled over her self-pity, abruptly halting out of sheer confusion more than anything else. “I - what?”

“Yeah,” Ilia nodded, dropping her hand to the table to cover Blake’s folded hands, her other hand taking another sip of the coffee that she apparently hated. “The first time I tried it was under your kitchen table, when we were pretending to be all grown-up instead of fighting monsters for once. We lived in a house and pretended to be all domestic, saying things like _do you need anything from the store dear_ and _you would not believe the day I had at work honey_ . I asked your dad to make me whatever _he_ drank in the mornings, because I wanted to make it believable.”

Blake only had a vague recollection of Ilia’s retelling, so she just stayed quiet, flipping her palm up on the table so that she could tangle her fingers within Ilia’s and feel her warmth.

“From the first sip, I basically immediately spat it out,” Ilia continued, squeezing Blake’s hand. “I was so disgusted, so busy kicking up a fuss that I didn’t realize until a second or two later that I had spat it out all over your face.”

 _Now_ Blake remembered. Her lips twitched upwards in a bemused smile. “I just remember thinking it was the most hilarious thing. I couldn’t stop laughing at the look on your face.”

Ilia chuckled, shaking her head as she bit her lip. She sobered a little, continuing, “After highschool, after everything happened between us, _that’s_ what I remembered every time I drank coffee. It was almost like the more bitter it was, the worse it tasted, the happier it made me.” She ran a hand through her hair, still holding tightly onto Blake. “It was stupid, but… I thought that if even bitter as shit coffee could make me feel better, then I figured that even our worst memories could too.”

“Even prom?” Blake asked quietly, still feeling the guilt on her shoulders, even all these years later. She remembered the look on Ilia’s face - she’d _never_ forget - when she knew that Ilia had realized that Blake had planted some of Adam’s drugs on her, framing her. All to deflect the blame away from her boyfriend.

She remembered how she looked away, burying her face in Adam’s shoulder as she swayed with him on the dance floor, unable to watch as Ilia was discreetly handcuffed and taken away. It was the last time Blake had seen her. Until earlier this year. At orientation.

Ilia pulled a low hiss of unsteady air at the question. But even still, she nodded resolutely. “Even prom, Blake,” she said. “I honestly never thought I would see you again after that. So even just having you in my life _right now_? That’s a dream come true to me. Even if it’s not exactly the dream I’ve been hoping for.”

 _Tell her. Just tell her right now. She’s giving you the opportunity._ “Ilia, I…,” Blake said, slow. Deliberate. Things would change so much for them, wouldn’t they? 

But Ilia was telling her that they wouldn’t. Ilia was telling her that she would stay right by her side no matter what happened. Blake just had to trust that.

“So… y’know,” Ilia prompted, gently lifting Blake’s chin with her thumb and forefinger, holding her so that their gazes met. “If there’s anything you feel like you need to tell me, or want to say, or just… whatever. You can tell me. I won't hold it against you, alright?”

 _I think I’m in love with Yang. I think I have been from the very start._ But when Blake looked at Ilia, held the gaze of her soft blue eyes within her own, she couldn’t muster up the courage. “I…,” she shook her head, her chin slipping from Ilia’s hold, the ghost of her touch tingling against her skin. “I feel so safe with you. Maybe _too_ safe - but that’s all I want right now. I’ll tell you someday, maybe, I think. But right now, I… I just want to stay here with you.”

Ilia hummed, a quiet contemplative and maybe a little sad thing. But she just tangled her hand through Blake’s hair and pulled her in close, kissing the crown of her head. “I’ll still be right here beside you. Whenever you’re ready.”

  
  


Things got easier, after that. Blake’s grades started to pick up as she found it easier to focus and she even decided to go with Ilia to a couple of _Inqueeries_ meetings - though suspiciously Yang wasn’t present at any of them. Blake had an inkling that Ilia was responsible for that, for which she was actually a little grateful. Everything had just started to settle down, and Blake wasn’t sure if she could handle the confusing rush of emotions that Yang’s presence would inevitably bring.

The emails were complicated enough.

“So, Blake,” Pyrrha said, settling herself down onto the barstool next to Blake. “It’s been nice to see you here every now and then. Are you enjoying yourself at our little meetings?”

“Yeah,” Blake said, trying to be casual as Robyn set a drink down in front of her. “What’s this? I didn’t order anything.”

Robyn shrugged. “Strawberry Sunrise. On the house,” she said, tossing her a casual wink. “Just seemed like you needed the nudge.”

What the _hell_ was that supposed to mean? “Excuse-”

“I’m sorry Yang hasn’t been able to make it to any of these meetings lately,” Pyrrha said, her voice just a little _too_ light to be anything but implying _something._

“Why would you apologize for that?” Blake asked quickly. _Way_ too quickly. She dove for her drink, wrapping her lips around the straw and taking a long gulp.

Pyrrha blinked, sat back just a little in her chair. Clearly Blake’s response hadn’t been what she was expecting. “My apologies!” she said, lifting her hand in an attempt to mollify Blake’s sudden spike of alarm. “I simply thought there was a little something going on between you two after her New Year’s party, since she had rushed to find you at midnight…”

Oh.

_Oh._

“Oh my gods, Pyrrha…,” Blake slapped a hand to her mouth as her mind immediately recalled the words of the email that Yang had sent her that night. _There’s someone that I really like. She touches me, gets so close to me. She looks at me like she wants me too._

Blake had thought this whole time that it had been Pyrrha - Pyrrha who was now sitting next to her, staring at her like she’d sprouted a second set of ears - because she never thought of herself as good enough to catch someone’s attention like that. She saw the way Pyrrha hung off Yang’s frame all night, all drunk and giggly and so very touchy, and just assumed that Yang had been talking about her.

But it had been Blake. It had been Blake the whole goddamned time. 

Except something didn’t _entirely_ line up. Yang said in the email that she said that the person she was interested in had a girlfriend, and, at the time, Blake hadn’t been dating anyone. And she’d only gotten with Ilia after that night…

Blake’s eyes tracked across the bar, finding Ilia with the ease that she’d always had when it came to her best friend. Ilia met her eyes over Weiss’ shoulder as she laughed at something the other woman had said. She smiled in a relaxed sort of way, softening almost imperceptibly as she gave Blake a small little wave. Oh, of _course_ Yang had thought they were together. Everyone always assumed that they were.

“Blake?” Pyrrha asked, gently touching her arm to shake her out of her sudden epiphany. 

“I - _shit_ , sorry,” Blake flashed her a smile, still barely present. “You just made me realize something, that’s all.”

“Something good, I hope?”

“Yeah, I… maybe,” she replied slowly, the emotions flooding her chest subduing just a little as Ilia glanced back towards her before excusing herself from her conversation with Weiss, reading Blake’s expression with the precision of an architect. The way she’d always been able to. “There’s someone I need to talk to first.”

Blake and Ilia ended up taking a walk hand-in-hand around the campus grounds. The air outside was just starting to warm with the first gasps of spring as the sun melted away the last of the stubborn snow that clung to the grass that was even more stubborn. “I’ve always loved spring,” Blake hummed, breathing in the world around her, breathing in renewal along with it.

“It’s… nice,” Ilia gave with some amount of hesitance. “I’ve-”

“Always preferred fall. No bugs,” Blake finished for her with a light giggle. “It feels like we have this discussion every time the snow melts.”

“Yeah, well,” Ilia shrugged, absently squeezing Blake’s hand. “It’s been a long time since I’ve spent a springtime with you.”

“I never apologized for that,” Blake said, stopping them just outside the entrance to the gardens. She hadn’t realized that she’d been unintentionally leading them there. She took Ilia into her arms, pulling her close before touching her forehead against Ilia’s. “Any of it. Adam, he…”

“Blake,” Ilia said, shaking her head just a little bit, her nose brushing against Blake’s. “You don’t have to-”

“But I _do_ , Ilia,” she insisted. “He twisted everything up for me, told me so many awful things that made so much sense while I was with him - _gods_. The things he made me believe about you, that you were holding me back from my true potential, that you weren’t good for me… he sounded so sure. And I’m so sorry that I _ever_ believed him. _You_ were the one who was always there for me, not him. Never him.”

“It was never really you,” Ilia reassured her, kissing the tip of her nose, tightening her arms around Blake. “Deep down, I always knew that you would never do those things to me if it weren’t for him.”

“Then you had more faith in me than I had in myself,” Blake said, a huff of relief, of despair, of hopelessness and forgiveness lifting from within her lungs. She buried her face in the crook of Ilia’s neck, but not before kissing the skin there, just above her collar of her shirt.

“You’ve always had that inner strength, Blake,” Ilia told her. “You just needed the right circumstances to prove it to yourself.”

“Yeah,” Blake said, thinking about how she’d sat on the floor of her empty apartment, unpacked boxes stacked haphazardly around her, the key to the freedom she’d found on her own in her hand as she soaked in the first rays of spring that filtered through threadbare curtains. “I suppose that that’s all I ever needed.”

Later that night, Ilia eased herself into the bed beside Blake, just about to reach over and turn the lamp on the bedside table off when Blake caught her hand, pressed her knuckles to her lips. “Remember when you asked me if there was anything I needed to tell you? And that no matter what, you would be right by my side?”

Ilia nodded, drawing her thumb across Blake’s bottom lip in a slow methodical kind of way. Blake closed her eyes, allowed herself to take comfort in the soothing motion. Through the darkness, Ilia replied, “I remember.”

Blake took in a deep steadying breath and opened her eyes. “I think I’m finally ready to tell you what I couldn’t before.”

“Okay,” Ilia said, steady. Always so steady. Even when she’d fallen from that tree and had cut her leg open on a branch on the way down, clearly in a lot of pain, she’d stayed calm. Pressed her hand against it and told Blake to go get help and that it’d be okay. That they’d be okay.

And they had been.

Knowing that, Blake steeled herself. “It’s about Yang.”

“You’re in love with her,” Ilia said as a statement, the firm way it was spoken leaving Blake without a doubt that Ilia had known this for a long time. Maybe even longer than Blake herself had even known.

“Yeah,” she sighed, a heavy thing that carried hopeless acceptance. “I didn’t know it at first, but she’s Sunny, Ilia. Once I knew that… well. It all just fell into place after.”

“Oh, wow,” Ilia said, rolling onto her back. She sounded faintly surprised at first, before letting out a short bark of laughter. “Yeah, I definitely didn’t stand a chance then.”

Blake propped herself up on her elbows, shifting so that she could see Ilia’s face staring up at the ceiling. “Please don’t say that, Ilia…,” Blake pleaded softly.

“Honestly, it’s okay,” Ilia shrugged, tilting her head as the words fell from her mouth. “I love you _so_ much, Blake. I’m always going to love you. But…,” she paused, shifting up and capturing Blake’s lips in a short kiss. She pulled Blake down towards her, Blake’s arms dropping to frame around her head and she pressed her forehead against Blake’s. “I think we both know that our time to be together has passed.”

This time when the truth was laid out so starkly obvious before her, Blake didn’t resist. She knew Ilia was right. She’d spent enough time running from her feelings because she wanted to stay wrapped up in safety. “I never meant to do this,” she whispered, feeling her heart crack in half from relief, from reluctance. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me. Not really,” Ilia murmured, running her fingers through Blake’s hair as it tumbled down her shoulders. “Not ever.”

When Blake leaned down to kiss her again, she knew it would be the last time. She knew in her heart, knew it from the very beginning, that the moments like these would always be numbered. But the knowledge that it would always come to an end didn’t make the ending any easier to bear. And it certainly didn’t stop the tears from staining their skin with salt, and coating their tongues the taste of goodbyes.

In the morning, Blake opened her laptop to a blank email. She glanced over at Ilia’s still sleeping form, smiling absently at the way she looked so peaceful and relaxed in her sleep. Then she started to write Sunny - _Yang_ \- an email, explaining that she knew who Yang was and that she was finally comfortable enough to reveal her own identity.

Only a few sentences in, Blake stopped, her fingers hovering over the keys as she frowned. Something didn’t feel quite right. She shut her laptop and let the email sit as a draft. She would tell Yang in person, she decided. It would be better that way. 

Except she would never get the chance.

  
  


“Almost ready to leave, Blake?” Ilia asked, coming up to stand behind her chair as Blake drew her highlighter across a specific passage and tagged its place with a sticky note. 

Blake just hummed noncommittally. “I need a few more references for this essay.”

“C’mon,” Ilia coaxed gently, resting her hands on Blake’s shoulders and squeezing them gently. “We really should go, it’s getting late.” As if to prove Ilia’s point, the librarian went about her routine of flickering the lights on and off to let any remaining students know that the library was about to close.

Ilia’s touch melted into her and Blake couldn’t help but lean back into it and let out a low moan of relief. “You’re awfully convincing,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

“Yeah, well,” Ilia shrugged, not even bothering to hide the light blush that coloured her cheeks at the noise that she pulled from Blake’s lips. “I still know how to push your buttons, even with you pining hopelessly over someone else.”

Blake turned back to face her, Ilia’s relaxing touch falling from her shoulders. “You deserve someone better than me, Ilia,” she murmured, but her voice was strong. Sure. “You always have.”

“Don’t say that, Blake. You know that’s not-”

“Ah, I should’ve known you ladies would be here,” Mrs. Whittaker stopped in front of alcove they’d set themselves up in, smiling in a fond, grandmotherly sort of way. “Why, I don’t believe I even saw you come back in tonight! If I had known, I would’ve stopped by for a little chat.”

“Well, you know Blake,” Ilia teased, poking her in the back of the neck, making Blake scrunch her shoulders up to her ears. “Always so very busy! Sometimes _I_ can’t even get more than a few sentences out of her!”

“Lord knows that’s true!” Mrs. Whittaker chuckled, wagging her finger at Blake. “Now, I don’t mean to disturb the lovely couple, but-”

Blake and Ilia exchanged a brief awkward glance. Neither of them had had the heart to tell her that they’d broken up - the sweet old woman seemed to find so much joy in their relationship. “We understand, ma’am,” Blake said, ever the gentleman. She closed up her textbooks and went about packing her supplies back in her backpack. “It’s time to close up.”

“We’ll be out of your way,” Ilia nodded to her with a smile. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“Oh, no trouble at all, lovelies,” she waved her hand. “Take as much time as you need! The doors will lock behind you if you decide to stay a few extra minutes, lord knows how hard you work, Blake!”

“We won't keep you, Mrs. Whittaker,” Blake smiled, reaching for the cord of her laptop and wrapping it up tightly as Ilia shut her laptop and slid it back into its protective case.

Mrs. Whittaker hummed something whimsical as she walked away, about to head back down towards the main floor before she turned, smacking her hand to her forehead in a forgetful sort of way. “Oh, silly me! Lord knows I’d lose my head if it wasn’t screwed on tight to my shoulders!”

“Mrs. Whittaker?” Blake asked. “Is everything-?”

“Yes, yes! Someone stopped by the desk looking for you earlier today, Blake,” Mrs. Whittaker said. “I told them that you had left for the day unfortunately, but they could leave a message with me if they’d like!”

“Someone came looking… for _me_ ?” Blake said slowly, her heart thumping loudly in anticipation. _Yang…? Could it be?_ “And they left a message?”

“Yes, mhmm! Thankfully it wasn’t a long message, otherwise I would’ve had to write it down - except that I didn’t have any paper on me at the time! How silly, isn’t it? A librarian without paper!”

“What was the message, Mrs. Whittaker?” Blake prompted anxiously.

“Oh, of course, right!” she waved her hand. “Silly me, rambling again. Ah, a young man came by the desk earlier today and said to tell Blake Belladonna,” she nodded her head towards Blake, “that he’s come home. Oh! And that he’s waiting for you.”

Blake froze in panic. Her ears started ringing, the blood draining from her face as she struggled to breathe. _No. No it couldn’t be._

“Charming young lad,” the librarian carried on, oblivious to Blake’s sudden terror. “Such bright blue eyes, lovely smile. I bet he has all the ladies swooning over him. Pity about that scar though.”

Everything sounded like it was underwater. Her insides numbed, grew cold. Her lungs weren’t working. Her lungs weren’t working.

That scar. She'd given him that scar. Hit him with a burning log from the fireplace during one of her escape attempts. It had been her last before the police managed to arrest him.

Behind her, she barely heard Ilia bidding Mrs. Whittaker a goodnight and saying they’d be out shortly. Everything dissolved in front of her. Reality splintered apart. _He’d gotten out. He was back._

“Blake! Blake, hey. C’mon,” Ilia called, crouching beside her. She shook her shoulder, watched Blake’s eyes lethargically focus in on her. “There, hey. There you are. C’mon Blake, talk to me.”

“Ilia,” she said, her voice sounding strange in her own ears. She tracked her gaze slowly over to Ilia, eyes sliding across the empty table, her backpack, Ilia’s shoulders… finally landing on Ilia’s face. Her best friend’s eyes were glassy with fear, but her expression said that she was holding on just enough to keep everything together for Blake’s sake. “He…”

“I know, Blake,” Ilia quivered, shook. Used the last of her strength to pull Blake into her embrace on the floor, holding her tight, pressing her close. “I’m right here. We’re right here. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Blake couldn’t reply, couldn’t even bring herself to acknowledge Ilia’s soft words in her ear. She just cried and cried, knowing what she would lose. Knowing what would happen.

He’d found her. And he was coming to take her home.


	7. an old wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang's friends help her heal.

Yang slammed her fists into the bag, sending the chains rattling as it was forced backwards from the impact. Sweat dripped down from her forehead, beaded down her neck, but she kept up with her furious rhythm. _One two one two one two one two one-_

Don’t stop.

She bounced back on her heels, settled into the stance that her body never forgot despite it being several years since Yang had practiced. She didn’t count the shit workouts in her basement. Shifted her weight onto her back leg, pivoted. Three roundhouse strikes in quick succession. Yeah, that felt good.

_None of their mothers were alcoholics!_

No. Don’t think. 

Switched legs. Three strikes. Dodged an invisible attack and weaved around to the backside of the bag. _One two one two_ \- uppercut, hook, hammerfist. Dodge. Uppercut, hook, hammerfist. Dodge. _One two one two one two one two-_

“Yang?” someone called out to her, but with the blood pounding in her ears, the heavy steady breathing heaving at her chest, she didn’t hear.

The image of Blake kissing Ilia in her mind.

She roared, spinning on the ball of her foot and delivered a huge kick that sent the whole framework shuddering, ringing from the impact. Or was that just in her own ears?

“Hey, whoa. Down girl,” Nora’s voice finally filtered through the noise in her head. “Meow. Something’s got you all worked up.”

 _Something. Right_. Yang just scoffed, not in the mood for banter. “Yeah, go on. Like you don’t know,” Yang rolled her eyes.

Nora lifted her hands defensively as Yang tugged at the velcro of her wrist wraps with her teeth and shook her arm, letting gravity do the work of unspooling the fabric. “It’s just been nice to see you finally doing something constructive to vent it out, that’s all.”

“Constructive. Sure,” Yang muttered, balling up the wrist wraps and tossing them and her waterbottle into her gym bag before heading over to the showers. She forced herself to keep her eyes from drifting across the hall to where the pool was. It had already been a few weeks since the New Year’s party and Yang still hadn’t been able to keep herself from looking to all the old places that Blake frequented, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. 

“Well, c’mon then!” Nora gestured for her to get a move on.

Yang stared at her, pausing momentarily with her hand on the locker room door as she scrunched her brows in confusion. “Uh, what-?”

“We’re taking you out, duh!”

Yang laughed, unable to disguise some of the bitterness in her lungs. “Like, you hired a killer or something?”

“If you don’t hurry up and shower that _stink_ off you, then maybe!” Nora stuck her tongue out at her as she went to shove her along, then took one look at her glistening skin and immediately thought better of it. “The married ones wanted to get you out of your head, take you out for a few drinks.”

The irony of the offer wasn’t lost on Yang - seeing as how _drinking_ was what got her in most of this mess in the first place. Well. Except for Blake kissing Ilia. Yeah. Except for that. “Y’know what, that sounds really good, Nora. I’ll meet you guys at _Towers_ in a few, alright?”

Nora saluted. “You got it chief!”

“So what’s the deal with this sudden plot to kidnap me?” Yang asked as she combed her fingers through her still damp hair. Normally, she would’ve taken the time to blowdry it, since she hated how heavy it felt against her neck and back while it was still damp. But Nora’s mildly cryptic offer had intrigued her, so she hadn’t waited around.

“I believe you asked me whether or not we’d _assassinate_ you, actually,” Nora said pointedly.

“Right. That,” Yang quirked her eyebrow over at Robyn as she leaned across the bar, a lopsided smirk showing off a dimple on one cheek. “So?”

“We thought it would be a good idea to give you a bit of a break. Get you out of that head of yours,” Robyn said, waving her assistant manager over.

“What do you mean by that, exactly?” Yang asked suspiciously.

“You and Hops good here?” she asked, nodding over to Velvet who was busy serving a couple guys several mugs of beer, pouring the brew from the tap like it was an artform, leaving a pristine layer of foam on top.

“I’m sure we can manage, Hill,” Coco folded her arms, cocking her hip against a barstool. “Off to play hookie again?”

“Damn right about that.”

“Careful now,” Coco shifted her sunglasses down her nose. Yang had always found that strange - wasn’t the bar already dim enough? “One of these days, you might just have to promote me.”

Robyn laughed, clapping Coco on the shoulder. “The place’ll be all yours when we retire, just be patient.”

“As soon as I find a cottage that I can get this city-slicker to fall in love with,” Fiona said, taking her and her wife’s jacket down from the closet behind the bar.

“Ugh!” Nora tipped her head backward, leaning back ever so dramatically. “You _gays_. All you do is talk talk talk - c’mon! I know just the place for a gnarly game of pool. I wonder if they’ll let me back in…”

When they got to the bar that Nora was talking about, albeit after several minutes of Robyn and Fiona cajoling and bribing the doorman to let Nora through, they made their way to the back of the bar - only to find Weiss and Pyrrha both sitting there already waiting for them.

“What is this, an intervention?” Yang grumbled, folding her arms as she debated just going home.

“If it was, we wouldn’t have brought you to a bar,” Weiss said. “Given what happened at New Year’s.”

“Jesus, you think you guys would’ve left off about this already. It’s been long enough!” Yang said, shifting backwards on her heels as she shook her head, ready to leave.

“Says the idiot who’s _clearly_ been self-destructing ever since!”

Yang threw Weiss a glare that would’ve cowed any lesser mortal. As it was, her anger was met and matched unflinchingly for several seconds before Yang broke. “I don’t have to stand here and take this shit from any of you,” Yang shook her head, turning. 

Only to be met by Nora with her hands planted firmly on her hips. Despite being practically half Yang’s height, Yang spotted the steely clench to her jaw that meant she was now practically as immovable as any mountain. “You’re not escaping that easily, mister,” Nora poked Yang squarely in the chest, rocking her backwards just slightly. 

Yang leaned around her with a skeptical look on her face, plotting her escape route. She quirked an eyebrow. “And exactly _what_ are you going to do to stop me, huh?”

Inwardly, Yang instantly regretted challenging Nora at all - but her frustration had spat the words out thoughtlessly and her pride refused her the will to back down. Nora threw her arm out and Yang braced, expecting a physical grapple of some sort. Instead, she blinked, and watched as Nora pointed dramatically to the back of the bar. Where the pool tables were.

“Oh _no_.”

“Oh _yeah_ , Xiao Long,” she grinned wickedly, latching onto her arm and dragging her towards the tables.

Yang tossed a helpless look over her shoulder at Robyn as a last ditch effort. “Didn’t we promise the bouncer that we wouldn’t let her near the pool tables just to get her through the door?”

Robyn lifted her hands in surrender, shaking her head. “I’m not taking responsibility for this one, got it?”

“Anyone?” Yang pleaded as Nora dragged her past her friends. They all pointedly turned to look away from her, sipping delicately at their drinks and acting all innocent. 

“Game on, fucker!” Nora said, nearly impaling her with a pool cue as she jabbed it towards Yang for her to take. “You’re gonna go _down_.”

“Great. Just _great_ ,” Yang shook her head, rolling her eyes as the door to the bar slammed shut behind them. “Nice fucking going Nora.”

“It’s not _my_ fault that the establishment hates me! Those security guards had it out for me from the very start! They were being homophobic,” Nora protested, crossing her arms stubbornly.

“Okay, well-”

“This is all _so_ unfair,” Weiss complained, huddling in closer to Pyrrha’s side to shield herself from the cold. “The rest of us were being completely model citizens! Just because _one_ of us can’t contain herself, that doesn’t mean-”

“If no one else has any plans,” Robyn cut through the arguing loudly, looking pointedly over at Yang as she tried to subtly slip away. Nora was right there _yet again_ to bring her escape to a screeching halt, grabbing her by the shoulder. “Why don’t we all come back to our place?” When Yang just growled, attempting to wrench herself free, she added, “We’ve got a very well-stocked liquor cabinet. And it’d all be _free_.”

Yang paused at that, fully aware that she was definitely walking into a trap. She met Robyn’s gaze challengingly, then panned across the group as they all watched her expectantly. Their expressions all said the same thing - that she wasn’t going to make it through the night without eventually spilling her emotional guts out to them. 

After several moments, she tossed her hands exasperatedly up in the air. “Alright, jeez. Fine. You guys win, alright?”

“Weiss and I will follow you in our car to make _sure_ that you don’t try to get away,” Pyrrha said as she headed to the parking lot, fishing keys out of her purse. 

“Robyn _already_ promised me free alcohol, you don’t need to fucking stalk me too!” Yang called after her, stopping and turning her head to stare at Weiss who hadn’t moved to follow Pyrrha. “What?”

“Just so you’re aware,” she said, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder for dramatic effect. “ _Now_ it’s an intervention.”

“Gay therapy session!” Fiona said brightly as she and Robyn went ahead to lead the convoy back to their place. Yang didn’t miss the fact that it sounded like she was looking forward to the opportunity to pick Yang apart within an inch of her life.

Yang flipped them all off with both hands as she mounted her bike. “Fucking hell….”

“There’s _no way_ I’m letting you bitches interrogate me while I’m sober, alright?” Yang stated loudly and clearly as she flung herself down onto one of their little loveseat couches, sprawling herself out so that no one else could sit next to her. 

“Classy,” Weiss muttered under her breath as she walked over to the fireplace that sat on the wall opposite from the collection of couches and set it so that little electric flames danced behind the glass.

Yang squinted, intrigued as she watched Weiss settle herself back down next to Pyrrha. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

Pyrrha and Weiss both nodded. “We’ve been here a couple times to discuss details regarding _Inqueeries_ \- and have the occasional game night,” Pyrrha said, smiling at Fiona as she handed her a glass of bourbon on the rocks. 

“Don’t try to change the subject!” Weiss said, sticking her finger in Yang’s direction. “We’re here to talk about _you_ and your issues!”

“What issues?” Yang asked innocently. “I sure don’t have any of those!”

“Quit playing _stupid_!” she huffed, crossing her arms. “We’ve all seen you-!”

“Weiss, dear,” Pyrrha said gently, laying her hand on Weiss’ arm to calm her. “Perhaps Yang will be more willing to talk if we just let her relax first, hm?”

“ _Thank you_!” Yang gestured to her as Fiona placed a drink on the coffee table in front of her.

“Nope!” Nora chipped in with a definitive _pop_ to the word. “I vote we just rip the bandaid off and let her bleed out all over the floor! Then we clean up what’s left of her after.”

“No one’s bleeding on my floor,” Robyn rolled her eyes as she and Fiona took the remaining free couch and sat down. “But at the same time, I agree. We don’t exactly want to be here for hours and hours while we wait for Fisticuffs here to decide that sometimes it’s just better to _talk_ about your shit than spend hours beating an inanimate object to death.”

Once again, Yang felt all their eyes laser focus on her and she had to bury her nose in her glass for a long moment just to steady herself. When she finally emerged, “Do I _really_ have to say it? Any of it? You were all there.”

In a rare moment of sympathy and softness, Weiss reached across the arm of their couch and took her free hand gently, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’ve all noticed that things haven’t been quite right with you, Yang.”

Yang winced as she eventually gave in, setting down her near-empty drink in front of her. “Alright, yikes,” she said even as she returned Weiss’ soft grip. “You know it’s bad when even _Weiss_ is showing concern.”

“ _Hey_ -!”

“That’s what we’ve been _saying_!” Nora piped up as she perched on her armrest like an owl for a brief moment. Then, quietly, as she dropped back into the chair like a normal person, “We’re all just worried about you.”

Pyrrha hummed, nodding along with Robyn and Fiona. “We just want to see how you’ve been doing, Yang,” Pyrrha said gently. “How are you holding up?”

Yang rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes darting over to the fireplace, focusing on the small little blue flames bouncing up and down to an invisible beat. She took another sip of her drink, only sucking at dregs - anything to prolong the answer she’d been trying to hide from herself over the past few weeks. “Alright,” she sighed, dropping her head into her hands as Fiona got up quietly from the couch to refill Yang’s drink. “Things have been shit lately. Is that what you all want to hear?”

“Yang-”

“Everything feels like it’s falling apart around me, okay?” Yang started, the dam broken and emotions spilling forth without reservations now. All it took was one small crack, and this _intervention_ had driven a spike right into it, pried it right open. “The only reason my parents haven’t grounded me like I’m thirteen all over again is because they’re both too angry at me to even speak to me, Ruby looks at me like a sad puppy every time I show my face around the house, I can’t focus on anything in class so I’m failing _at least_ one course, and the girl I-” Yang pulled up abruptly, cutting herself off sharply. Then she shook her head and continued on in a mutter, “And after what happened at the party, I don’t think Blake and I are ever going to speak again,” she finished lamely. 

Pyrrha and Weiss exchanged a long sideways glance at each other. Pyrrha shook her head warningly, a frown cornering her lips. Yang caught the motion with sharp eyes. “What’s that all about?”

“She should know,” Weiss argued. “She’ll find out eventually. If she ever came back to any of our meetings, that is.”

“And the _she_ in question is sitting right fucking here,” Yang snapped. “Find out what?”

“Blake and Ilia are together now,” Weiss said, ever blunt.

Yang took her words like a muted blow to the gut. It was something she suspected, something she assumed - had no choice _but_ to assume, after seeing them together at her party like that. It still tasted bitter as it sank all the way down to the pit of her stomach. “Good for them,” Yang said stiffly, snatching up the refill that Fiona had just returned with. She took a long swig, trying to swallow back anger along with it. “That’s really just great for them, really. They’re obviously cute together, so. Just wonderful. Pass along my congratulations, will you?”

“Nice going,” Pyrrha muttered, smacking Weiss on the shoulder. 

“Better that she get this information now so she has the time to process it,” Fiona pointed out.

“Exactly!” Weiss nodded at her before turning her attention back to Yang. “I know that this must hurt a great deal, Yang-”

“Oh, do you?” Yang said derisively into the rim of her glass.

“ _But_ ,” Weiss continued, overriding her snide comment. “I’ve talked to Ilia at least. She seems happy. They both do, from the sounds of it.”

“Like I said,” Yang said, gesturing with her half empty glass. Half empty, like everything seemed in her life lately. “Good for them. I’m glad they’re happy together.”

“It’s alright if you’re not-”

“Not _what_?” Yang asked sharply, looking over at Pyrrha who was staring back at her with sadness in her eyes. “Not okay? Newsflash, I don’t think I’ve been _okay_ since my mother died, alright?!”

The silence rang deafening at Yang’s outburst. She froze for a moment as she realized what she’d just yelled. Fuck. _Gay therapy session indeed_ , she sighed inwardly at herself.

“Your-”

“Not Summer, no. Obviously,” Yang cut Nora off with a hollow laugh. She lifted her drink to her lips, only to stop halfway as she once again remembered what Tai had said about Raven. Winced and set the glass back down on the table harder than she’d meant to. She could feel adrenaline hum through her veins, sending slight tremors down to her flesh and blood hand.

With all eyes still on her, and the silence growing ever more suffocating, Yang shook her head. “Raven, my birth mom. I.. don't talk about her much, really. She died in a car accident some years back. Same accident that I lost my arm in,” she held her prosthetic away from herself, clenching and unclenching her fist as she remembered a time that she could barely even give someone a proper handshake.

“Yang… I’m so sorry,” Pyrrha spoke up quietly. Yang didn’t even glance up, still staring at the black and yellow synthetic material of her hand, wrist and forearm. At least they’d let her customize it a little. 

“I felt like I’d lost everything the night of the accident,” she continued heavily. “I remember waking up in the hospital and realizing that my fucking arm was missing. And all I could think about was how I would never fight or compete in tournaments ever again. I didn’t even know that Raven had died too until several hours later. Tai thought it would be best if I didn’t learn about everything all at once - and there was no way he could keep me from seeing that I just didn’t have an arm anymore.”

“Were you angry at him for keeping it from you?” Nora asked, bracing her elbows on her knees as she leaned in closer.

Yang shook her head, glancing around at them all and their solemn expressions. “I wasn’t. Not at him, at least. I had been so hurt, so _angry_ … but I’d just bottled it all up. Kept it inside. I remember blaming _her_ for all of it - like, how _dare_ she, y’know? She’d always been there at my tournaments, watching me in the stands. It was the _one time_ I could look forward to her actually being a mom. Like she’d genuinely seemed proud of me when I was out in the ring, fighting with her name as a part of my moniker. And then, in one fell swoop, she just gets to take that all away? Everything that made me feel like myself, like a daughter that her mother could be proud of? How fucking _dare_ she!”

Yang didn’t even realize that she was crying until Pyrrha got up and went to sit down next to Yang, nudging her limbs aside so that she could pull Yang into a hug. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, love,” she murmured. “You didn’t deserve it.”

Yang folded against Pyrrha’s embrace, trying to take comfort in it even as self-loathing crept up at the back of her mind. “But maybe I did,” she muttered. If she’d just been stronger maybe, or a better daughter, if she’d just tried harder to connect with Raven instead of brushing her off out of resentment and bitterness, maybe everything could’ve been so different. 

“No one deserves to feel like they aren’t enough, Yang,” Nora said firmly, a fierce assured passion pushing through her words. “You know that, right?”

“I…,” she started, taking a tissue from Fiona as she reached across to her. She pressed it against her eyes, hard enough that spots of light appeared behind her eyelids, and forced a shaky inhale into her lungs. She _knew_ that, of course. She knew it for everyone else, at least. But accepting it for herself personally? “It’s so hard to really _really_ get it. I want to, I know I’m worth something, it’s just…” She took another breath in as she blew her nose into the fresh tissue from the box that Fiona had set on the table in front of her. “It’s hard to believe in any of that _at all_ \- not when the universe seems hellbent on telling me again and again that I’m not worth _anything_. And especially that I’m not worth staying for.”

Pyrrha squeezed Yang gently within her arms, pressing a familiar kind of kiss to her hair before saying, “Well, I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’re all here to prove the universe wrong. We’re here for you, Yang. We’re right by your side. And we’re not going anywhere.”

Yang looked over at her and saw the honest sincerity in her eyes. She glanced around and found the same look mirrored on all of their faces. Felt some of the weight lift from her shoulders knowing that they had her back. “I’ll hold you to it, then,” she said quietly, allowing herself to lean fully against Pyrrha and trusting her to support her weary frame.

  
  


Things got easier, after that. Yang fell into a rhythm that allowed her to focus on schoolwork as well as taking enough time for herself to decompress and practice self-care. It only worked as well as it did because her friends were there, surrounding her on all sides, readily available to help lift her back up if they noticed her falling back into old habits.

The only thing she couldn’t really shake was the definitive ache in her chest due to Blake’s absence among their little group. She even found herself missing her friendly, sometimes overly competitive, rivalry with Ilia in the gym. Nothing really felt the same without either of them, and Yang knew that it wasn’t just because she had feelings for Blake that made everything feel empty. Even though no one else mentioned it, presumably out of respect for Yang’s feelings first and foremost, Yang knew that everyone else was feeling the loss.

Still, with her friends to lean on, she found it easier to move forward and develop coping mechanisms that were much healthier than spending too long at the gym _beating the shit out of inanimate objects_ as Robyn had put it.

And at least she still had her conversations with Iris. For the most part. Their emails since the start of the new semester had been few and far between and they hadn’t used the instant messaging service to chat since the start of the break between semesters. But Iris had explained that her courseload was much busier this time around, with several early morning lectures and weekly assignments and quizzes, so Yang wasn’t all that worried.

Even though she couldn’t help but think every so often about how odd it was that Iris had never replied to her email on New Year’s eve, but had rather skipped past it entirely - like it hadn’t even existed in the first place. But it was a night Yang would rather let herself forget entirely, so she didn’t bother to pry her for an explanation.

“C’mon, Xiao Long! Guard up, let’s go,” Yang shook herself for her momentary lapse in concentration and brought her fists back up to her face. Her trainer on campus, May, nodded approvingly as she tested Yang’s reactions. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

Yang hummed, dancing back out of her reach for a moment before aiming a roundhouse kick at her shinguards. “You could say that.”

May twisted at the last second, lowering her hands just slightly as she reset and regarded Yang with curiosity. “You’ve been at the beginner level for the past month. It’s clear that you’re on a higher level than these chumps.” Another student who was throwing hesitant strikes at a stationary bag turned and glared at her. May gestured at her in a way that would’ve been a thumbs-up if she hadn’t been wearing boxing gloves. 

“Real nice going, dummy!” one of the other coaches, Joanna, rolled her eyes at her from across the gym.

“Sorry!” May shouted an apology back with another wince. 

Yang took advantage of her distracted state and threw a quick low jab-cross combo to her torso. Not enough to do any damage, but enough to wind her. “Hey, Marigold. Guard up,” she teased.

“Ha. Real clever,” May said dryly. She cocked her head, sizing Yang up for a long moment. Then she started circling her. “C’mon then. Let’s see what you’re really made of.”

“ _Oh_ , not a problem,” Yang smirked as she matched May’s sideways prowl and prepared a good and proper sparring match, her first in years.

Thirty intense, pulse-pounding minutes later, May tossed a Beacon towel in Yang’s direction for her to wipe the sweat off her face and chest. “I’ll admit, you nearly had me a couple of times there,” May said as she took a long drink from her water bottle. 

“What can I say,” Yang shrugged, tipping her own water bottle above her head and squirting some in her mouth before spraying her forehead. The ice cold water felt refreshing as it doused her flushed face and streamed down to her neck. “I’m rusty, so I went easy on you. I just let you win so you wouldn’t feel bad to be beaten by someone at the beginner level.”

“You could move up to the expert class if you wanted. Easy,” May said as they headed across the hall to the showers. On the way, they passed by the machines and free weights. 

Yang caught sight of Ilia out of the corner of her eye, arms folded as she leaned nonchalantly against the wall while waiting for the squat machine. “Hm? Oh, uh. Well,” Yang started distractedly, a vague half-formed thought flitting through her mind. “I’ve just got enough on my plate right now, y’know? Anyway, thanks for the spar. I’ll see you next week, okay?”

“Alright, well, if you change your mind then just let me know!” May said as a way of a farewell, waving over her shoulder as she headed to the showers.

Yang stayed rooted in her spot for several long moments as she watched Ilia, deliberating. It had been so long since Yang had even _seen_ her, she should stop and say hi. See how she was doing. Try _not_ to interrogate her about Blake or their relationship. Y’know. Just polite conversational stuff.

Yang’s courage gave out on her a second later the moment _Blake_ entered her mind, and she turned on her heel to leave - but at that exact moment Ilia looked around and spotted her. _Well. No going back now,_ she thought as she lifted her hand in acknowledgement. 

Ilia didn’t react, but neither did she walk away - even though she could clearly see Yang heading towards her. Yang took that as a positive sign. Or something above outright hostility, at least. “Uh, hey,” she said, joining her against the wall.

“What, you waiting for this machine too?” Ilia asked gruffly, barely glancing at Yang as she leaned beside her.

Yang knew Ilia wasn’t stupid, knew that Ilia was just obviously deflecting the real reason that Yang had come over. So she ignored the question entirely. “How’ve you been lately?” 

Ilia didn’t reply for a little while and Yang half-expected her to ignore Yang entirely - the machine Ilia had been waiting for had just opened up after all. To Yang’s surprise, she looked Yang in the eyes and sighed heavily. “Better than you’ve been, I imagine.”

Yang blinked, her lips parting in confusion even as her heart raced. _What did Ilia know?_ “Not sure why you’d say that,” Yang just said carefully instead.

 _Something_ flashed strangely across Ilia’s expression for the briefest of moments. Then, as her gaze flitted past Yang’s shoulder, it shifted once more before freezing in place. Before Yang could glance behind herself to see what Ilia was looking at, she shrugged. Shouldered her way past her. “Forget it,” she muttered under her breath.

Yang watched her leave, scanning the gym out of curiosity to see what had caused Ilia to react in such a way. Nothing out of the ordinary caught her eye, just the usual few gross dudes leering at the girls who were simply trying to get through their work out routine. Yang had half a mind to report the red-haired guy to security with how overtly he was staring. Knew that it likely wouldn’t even make a difference, so she just rolled her eyes with a grimace and finally headed to the showers to rinse off after her sparring match with May.  
  


Yang rolled over in her bed, wide awake and aching. She knew she shouldn’t have been pushing herself so hard with her workouts the past few months, but it was hard to hold back when she finally had been able to get partnered up with someone to _really_ spar with. It had been too long since she’d actually fought someone. 

She sighed, twisting underneath her covers yet again, this time trying to shake off the memories of Raven in the stands, watching her compete. She wasn’t doing it for her anymore. She was doing it to feel like _herself_ again - the person she’d been before the accident.

Somehow, Yang’s phone found its way into her hands. Before she knew it, she was squinting against the bright light of her screen as she navigated to her _Hermes_ profile, muscle memory taking over as she thumbed down to Iris’ chat message box.

Her status blinked. _Online._

Yang frowned slightly, glancing over at the glow of her digital clock, dim by comparison to the little spotlight that was her phone’s screen. _2:57AM._

“Hey,” Yang typed in, dropping her phone back onto the mattress beside her, not really expecting her to answer. Being _online_ didn’t really seem to mean too much these days - it probably just meant that her phone was on.

But her phone buzzed a few seconds later. “You’re up late,” Iris had replied.

Yang shifted onto her shoulder so that she could cradle her phone in her hands without worrying about it dropping painfully onto her face. “Can’t sleep. You?”

“Neither can I.” 

Yang almost typed out some stupid innuendo, something to distract herself from her current headspace, but she refrained. “Wanna talk about it?” she offered instead.

Yang didn’t really expect her to answer really. Not honestly, at least. There was something so intimate about confiding to someone about the things that held sleep at an arm’s length. But when Iris finally replied, she surprised her. “Something I thought I’d left behind in my past has come back. I could lose everything I’ve worked for.”

Yang had half of her reply typed when another message from Iris appeared.

“And I’m so scared.”

 _Shit. Iris…._ Yang felt her stomach drop out from under her. Her heart ached to help, but she had no idea where to start, what to ask. “Iris, I’m so sorry,” she typed, the words seeming hollow and flat the second they hit the screen. “If there’s anything I can do to help you, please just tell me okay?”

“Please, don’t worry about me,” Iris replied quickly. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have said anything at all.”

Yang stammered over her keyboard, sentences starting and stopping, letters vanishing in and out of existence. “Did I say something wrong?”

“This was a mistake. I’m sorry, Sunny.”

“Iris, wait,” Yang wrote frantically. “Is everything okay? What happened?”

Those three tiny little dots appeared, seemed suspended in time for what felt like hours, then disappeared again. Yang stared, waited. Waited. Waited.

“Iris?” She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and refocused on the screen as she sat up in bed, too unsettled to even think about drifting off now. “What’s going on? I’m here for you, alright?”

A few moments passed. Iris’ three little dots didn’t reappear. Then her status changed to _offline_ , and Iris disappeared altogether.


	8. shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Blake try to escape their pasts.

Finals loomed over Yang’s head like a ravenous beast and all Yang could think about was Iris. That was far from unusual, as she’d been living on the edges of her mind, filling in the gaps of her awareness and permeating her reality for the past several… gods, it must’ve been _months_ by now. But what _was_ unusual was the fact that with her sudden absence a few days ago, her presence became undeniable. Yang felt Iris in every slight gust of wind, heard her in every student she passed who laughed, saw her in the deep purples of the flowers in the gardens. 

It made no sense, they’d never met, but Yang felt like she knew exactly who Iris was, beyond the simple black and whites of her screens. Because now that she was gone, the emails and texts that held so much of her soul felt hollow. Empty.

Even still, she found herself sitting at her desk at home, her textbook gaping open and untouched, the body of her email blinking expectantly up at her.

 _Dear Iris,_ Yang started, her fingers shaking over the keys. Was _dear_ too formal at this point? Or perhaps too _familiar_? Their emails had been evolving into something… _more_ lately, but Yang couldn't really tell where Iris' feelings were at. She could only say what they were for herself.

And if Yang was going to admit anything to herself, it was that she was starting to fall. _Hard_.

She hit the backspace a couple of times, frowning. 

_Iris,_

_It's been a couple of days since our last correspondence._

What was _that?_ Yang shook off the awkwardness, reminded herself that she was just checking in on her to make sure that she was alright. That was all.

She sighed. Erased. And started again.

_So… I just wanted to see if everything was alright with you. You left me a little worried when you disappeared in the middle of our conversation the other night. I know you said that it was a mistake to tell me that something was wrong, but I really want you to know that I truly am here for you. And I hope I’m not overstepping by saying that._

_Maybe you’ve just been busy with studying for finals, and that’s got you all out of sorts and stressed out. I know that’s what I should be doing. Not being stressed, I mean! Just studying for them. But I haven’t been able to focus. Honestly, I haven’t been able to sleep all that well, not since you left like that._

_Please email me back as soon as you can, alright? I really need to know if you’re okay. That’s all. Okay. Yeah. Take care._

_Love,_

_Sunny_

It wasn't until Yang checked her email before heading to bed that night that she realized her mistake. She cast a cursory glance through her inbox, hoping to see a response from Iris waiting for her in the few hours she had managed to put towards her studying. A little paranoid that maybe she hadn’t replied because the email hadn’t gone through, Yang clicked through to her own email and scanned. And there, at the bottom, her sign off. 

_Love, Sunny._

Love. _Love._

Shit. Shit, shit _shit_. 

  
  


Yang spent three whole days fretting about those four little letters. She had been worried enough that she’d somehow managed to drive Iris away by being overly nosey, too pushy - that she’d accidentally crossed a boundary line that she hadn’t even known to exist. Now she was _sure_ that she’d definitely, _definitely_ fucked it all up. Iris hadn’t replied at _all_ , and neither had she been online since that night.

It was obvious that Iris wanted nothing more to do with Sunny.

“I thought I would find you here,” someone called out to Yang as she sat in front of the stone fountain, watching the water bubble _way_ too cheerfully to be appropriate. The weather was finally warm enough for the fountain to be turned on again and Yang couldn’t even enjoy the damn thing.

She turned slowly, hardly daring to believe her ears. “Blake?” she asked in muted shock. 

It had been _months_. And it felt like it had been years. But she still looked just as beautiful as the day that Yang first saw her. Well… collided headfirst into her, rather. “Yang, I…,” she started, looking nervous. Skittish. Then she paused, cocking her head sideways in confusion. “What is it?”

“Sorry,” Yang shrugged, the grin slipping off of her face as she watched the way Blake nervously fidgeted with the straps of her backpack. Something she couldn’t ever remember Blake wearing all that much before. “Just… remembering how we met.”

Blake’s lips parted in confusion for a brief moment before lifting into a ghost of a smile. Yang tried not to think about how she had wanted so badly to kiss those lips before. How badly she _still_ wanted to. Reminded herself who she’d seen kissing them last. _Blake and Ilia are together now_. “I recall seeing a blur of yellow out of the corner of my eye before you slammed into me,” she laughed, but it sounded empty.

Yang rose from her seat to stand next to Blake as she rubbed ruefully at the back of her neck. “Yeah, well,” she shrugged, chancing a glance upwards from Blake’s boots to meet her eyes. “I was just shocked that you didn’t fall over. It’s not like I’m a lightweight or anything.” 

Blake stilled and, for a long moment, it felt like she was holding her breath. Anything to freeze the moment around them and hold it forever. But she eventually let out a shaky exhale, and the world moved onwards. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Blake-”

“Yang, I… I’m so sorry,” Blake cut her off, grabbing at her shirt and pulling her into a crushing hug that knocked the wind from Yang’s lungs. She wrapped her arms around her tightly, and Yang could feel the tension where Blake was fisting at the material of her shirt. “I never meant hurt you ever, I never wanted to-”

“Blake, I-” Yang tried, tangling her fingers in Blake’s hair as she instinctively pulled her closer into her chest. “It’s okay, really-”

“No, it _isn’t_!” Blake insisted, burying her nose into Yang’s collarbone. Wetness and salt stained the skin there at Yang’s neck. “It isn’t - but I have no excuse for any of it! I didn’t mean to - at New Year’s, I just… I wasn’t thinking, I was so scared to let anyone else in, but Ilia she-” 

At this, Blake pulled back, shaking her head violently from side to side. She pushed the heel of her hand against her cheeks, scrubbing away tears. “ _Ilia_ . Yang, I’m so… you have to know - I _promise_ that we’re not together, okay? It was a _stupid_ mistake, it never should’ve happened-”

“Blake, please - just slow _down_ ,” Yang cut in, finally managing to draw Blake’s attention towards herself as she took in a great shuddering gasp. “There, okay. That’s it. Take another deep breath for me okay? Just look at me,” Yang said, bracing her hands on Blake’s shoulders and taking in a slow breath of air for Blake to mirror. “That’s really good. Really good.” She held her arms out again. “C’mere. I’ve got you.”

Blake didn’t so much as step towards Yang as much as she collapsed right back into her arms. A choked sob made its way out of her ribcage and she scrabbled her fists against Yang’s shirt once more. A string of apologies tumbled from her lips, muffled by Yang’s shirt. “I never should’ve gotten you involved in any of this, I shouldn’t have risked it, I’m so sorry Yang, I-”

Yang felt her absence with a startling, devastating clarity. She opened her eyes, steadying herself as she watched Blake retreat from her. “Blake, please,” Yang pleaded with her, following her steps forward, resting her hand on Blake’s shoulder once again.”You’re scaring me, just tell me what’s going on. Please?”

Blake shook her head, drawing her hand upwards to rest on top of Yang’s. She closed her eyes, like she was memorizing the touch. Then, “I’m sorry, Yang. I… I can’t. If he finds out who you are, I-” she shook her head again. She took in a deep breath and opened her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she drew in close. As close as Yang had ever dreamed.

She pressed a kiss to Yang’s cheek, her lips lingering there for as long as possible. Then she pulled away, achingly slow, the heat from her breath tingling across her skin. “Goodbye, Yang.”

Then she was gone.

  
  
  


Blake took off, ignoring the way Yang called after her, ignoring the way the touch of her skin still burned against her lips. She had to. Leaving was the only option now. She had to keep Yang safe. Adam had already ruined so much of her life, she couldn’t let his touch infect the small happiness she had managed to find within Sunny. The love she’d found again within Yang.

But even as she ran, dodging through other students, doubt plagued her mind. What good would it be to run? Where could she go this time? He’d managed to find her while he had still been in jail - it would surely only be a matter of time before he’d found her again. 

She couldn’t escape him. She’d _never_ be able to escape him.

As if her fear had pulled on some unseen string of the universe, she spotted him. Across the street, pushing open the door of The Honeypot and stepping out onto the sun-warmed concrete of the sidewalk, she spotted him. He stopped for just a mere moment as Blake’s feet froze to the ground, paralyzed. She couldn’t see his face, but she could tell by the way he slowly started pacing his way over to her that he was smirking in the way that used to be so charming somehow. 

_Blake. Move._

She scrabbled at her pants, gripping the fabric as if she could yank herself into motion. But he’d find her. He always had. All of Blake’s numerous escape attempts during the years they lived together after highschool had proved that - what good would it do to run? Even _jail_ hadn’t been able to stop him. 

“There you are, my love,” Adam called out to her, and Blake started. He’d gotten so close. Blake had been battling her own mind and had let him get _so close_. “Your face is even more beautiful than I had been dreaming of it all this time.”

She found her voice, her bravery. “Don’t come any closer, Adam,” she snapped, her fists curling in at her sides. _You’ve gotta keep your thumb tucked on the outside of your hand, see? Like this._ Yang’s words floated into her mind, on one of the rare occasions that she had managed to convince Blake to join her in the gym for a work out.

He clicked his tongue softly, shaking his head. “Is that any way to greet your beloved?” he said, his words honey-coated poison.

 _Aim to hit your target with your first two knuckles_. _The power comes from the hips, like this._ But face to face with Adam for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, a brief respite of a dream, her courage fell apart. Shattered at her feet. “You’re supposed to be in jail,” she whispered. “I had gotten away from you. I was supposed to be free, I-”

“You were _supposed_ to wait,” he growled, advancing on her. It was exactly what Blake had been waiting for, what she had feared to see. Terror clogged her throat. Nails pressed into her palm, cutting, digging. Held back tears. He hated weakness. 

“I thought you would be happy,” Blake said, but even to her own ears it sounded like a broken plea. Had she ever really escaped from him? Or had it all been a lie she told herself each morning that she woke up, acting out scenes according to the script he’d laid before her?

“I _could_ have been, my darling. You could have made me a _very_ happy man,” he said, stepping up to her, trailing his fingers across her cheek, threading them through her hair. Blake shuddered, wondered what it looked like to any of those who walked on around them. She closed her eyes, and knew they looked like lovers. She had played the part for so long, she’d forgotten that love wasn’t supposed to feel so _cold._

Yang had shown her that. Even just a glimpse. Even though they’d never known each other like that. And now they’d never get the chance to.

“But you’ve misbehaved while I was away,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair before tightening his fist and tugging her head up so that she was forced to look in his eyes. They were dead, but calculating. Like a shark swimming beneath a frozen ice floe. “Imagine for a moment how I must’ve felt when I was finally released, expecting to find a loving and tearful girlfriend waiting for me on the outside - and finding _nothing_. Can you imagine that for me, Blake?”

Blake couldn’t look away, couldn’t even nod. She swallowed hard, still fighting back tears. 

“And imagine my surprise after I did some digging on that same girlfriend’s whereabouts and found that not only did she start university without waiting for her patient boyfriend, but she had also found herself a new _scratching post_ to rub up against.”

 _Yang. Oh_ gods _no…_ “How did you-”

Adam sneered at her. “Did you _really_ believe that a fake name would be enough to hide _her_ from me?”

 _The emails…. Sunny…_ “Don’t - _please_ ,” Blake begged, reaching up and clinging to his wrist. She wondered if he could feel her desperation as she clawed at his skin. “Sunny, she - she has _nothing_ to do with _any_ of this. Don’t hurt her, please - just leave her alone!”

“Oh, I will Blake. All you have to do is come home with me, and this will all be over.”

He made it sound so easy. For a moment, Blake almost believed that it could be. That everything she’d done up to this point to break free of him had been a mistake. And that he knew best after all. _It’s about trusting your instincts, right? Training the technique helps, but it really comes down to trusting in yourself. That’s how you land the hit._

Yang’s voice again, in her ear. Yang’s gentle touch at her waist, her shoulders as she guided Blake through the strike. Even the memory of her touch was warmer than Adam’s reality right in front of her. It all came down to Yang, in the end.

And Blake couldn’t let him touch her. She _wouldn’t_.

“Okay,” she said quietly. Once more to convince herself that this was the right choice. That _leaving her behind_ was the right thing to do. “Okay. Let’s go home.”

  
  


It took Yang several moments to process what exactly had happened. She pressed a hand to her cheek, as if to capture Blake’s kiss and soak it deeper into her skin. And then Blake turned and left her standing there alone, with the barest of farewells ghosting across her skin.

“Blake!” Yang called after her, scooping up her backpack from the ground. “ _Wait!”_ She charged after her, dodging through students who were just taking a nice relaxing stroll through the gardens, enjoying the respite from studying.

Right. Studying. Yang found herself wishing that her worries were as simple as that.

“Blake!” she shouted again, bursting from the main entrance of the gardens. She couldn’t have gotten far, could she have? Yang had no doubt that she was fast, with all those laps she always swam, her legs had to be powerful, strong-

_Focus, Yang. Goddamnit!_

“Blake?” she asked, almost to herself as she scanned the students milling about, looking for any sign of familiar black hair. Had she been wearing that knitted hat when she showed up? _Gods_ , Yang had been too focused on the worried look on Blake’s face to pay attention to anything else. Taking one last look around the main entrance with no sign of her, Yang decided to check around the side entrance. Maybe Blake thought that taking the less obvious route would throw Yang off long enough for her to get off campus.

Yang’s instincts paid off as she rounded the corner and spotted Blake just at the corner of the sidewalk a few streets away. Relief flooded her veins for just the briefest of moments as Yang slowed her pace to a jog as she approached her. Before she noticed that someone else was already standing in front of her, cradling her face in a decidedly _intimate_ gesture.

Yang stopped dead on the sidewalk as she watched this person, this _man,_ thread his fingers through Blake’s hair, press a kiss against her forehead. She recognized him, from the gym not all that long ago. Ilia had left so suddenly back then…. 

Something _cold_ flooded every inch of Yang’s body as she watched Blake seemingly sag against him, tendrils of icy dread gripping her senses. Something about all this was _so very wrong._

 _If_ he _finds out who you are…_

It was something Blake had said right before she had said goodbye. Right before she left. She’d looked so scared - her whole body seemed so _small_. Everything shifted in Yang’s mind’s eye, a rose-coloured glass lifted from her perspective, and she watched as his posture became a threat, his touch became controlling. 

She _had_ to step in - she couldn’t just keep standing motionless like this, everything was just _so wrong_ about the scene in front of her-

But everything shifted again, skewed. Tilted sideways. Yang, about to rush in, push him away, her adrenaline charging her body for a confrontation, could only keep watching in disbelief as Blake leaned into his side and let him wrap his arm around his shoulder as they walked away together.

She was _choosing_ to leave with him. Yang couldn’t understand it, couldn’t make sense of it. She seemed so scared, so small, and yet - nothing made sense.

She stood still, stunned for several long moments, empty gaze watching the place where she’d seen Blake last. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, but after a few moments - _a few minutes? hours?_ \- Yang was shaken out of her stupor by the loud clamour of her alarm.

Oh. Right. She’d set that thing to let her know when to get back to studying.

She reached into her pocket to shut the damn thing off, fully intending to stuff it back into her backpack and trudge hopelessly back into the garden and sit there until the sun fell and she was forced to ride home. But an unfamiliar notification on her phone stopped her. _Two missed calls from Ilia Amitola._

A sharp burn of jealousy lanced through her heart before it immediately turned to ash. Blake had said they weren’t together. _Gods._ What the _fuck_ was going on?

She decided to call her back.

“Ilia, what the-”

“ _Yang_ ! Fuck, oh thank _gods_ ,” Ilia immediately cut in. “Blake wasn’t answering her phone, she just rushed off on me - last thing I got out of her was that she needed to see you-”

“Yeah, she did, but - Ilia,” Yang gripped her phone tightly, pressing it against her ear so hard that she faintly wondered if it would bruise. “I just - she was acting _so_ strange, she came at me crying and saying all this stuff like she was sorry, reassuring me that you two weren’t together-”

“Look, I’m really _really_ sorry, but none of that matters right now,” Ilia asked in a rush. “ _Where_ did you see her last? Where are you right now? It’s really important-”

“Outside the side entrance of the gardens,” Yang started, her previous understated fear growing rapidly at the urgency in Ilia’s voice. “She was talking to me by the fountain - then she ran off and I went after her-”

Ilia’s next response came a little staticky, muffled. As if she was on the move. But her fear was still very clear. “Yang. Was she with anyone?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah,” she got out. “A tall red-headed guy, I didn’t get a clear look-”

Ilia swore. “ _Adam._ ”

“Ilia, what the _hell_ is going on-”

“Don’t fucking move, Yang. I’m on my way, alright? Just stay _put_.”

  
  


Ilia looked _awful_ by the time she arrived. Her face was tear-stained and splotchy and, when she flung herself unexpectedly into Yang’s arms, Yang could feel her entire frame quivering. “Ilia, hey uh-” Yang started, wrapping her arms around her a little uncertainly. She’d never taken Ilia to be one for physical affection, but whatever was going on had clearly shaken her to her core.

“I’m sorry,” she said automatically as she pulled back, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around herself protectively instead. “She just took off on me, I didn’t know who else to call-”

“It’s alright, really-”

Ilia glanced around the grounds, the sidewalks of the road surrounding the campus. “She left with him, didn’t she,” she asked flatly. Her tone spoke of a forgone conclusion. 

“I - yeah. Yeah, she did,” Yang said heavily, expecting Ilia to crumble in front of her. “Who-?”

“I should’ve figured,” Ilia said, her jaw tightening. “I had hoped that we could figure out something together - but it doesn’t matter now, really.”

“ _Jesus_ , Ilia!” Yang snapped, smacking her on the shoulder. “Would you just stop for _one second_ to explain-?”

“That man you saw Blake with,” Ilia started, her tone that same blank resignation. “That was Adam. Her boyfriend.”

“Boyf-?”

Ilia corrected herself with a bitter laugh. “I _guess_ I should say _ex_ -boyfriend. But I bet they looked pretty chummy when you saw them just now, didn’t they?”

That didn’t feel right at _all_. “Ilia, no - that doesn’t seem right. I _saw_ Blake, she looked… scared.”

Ilia held anger in her frame for a long moment before sighing. “I imagine that you’d be right,” she finally gave. She shook her head again. “I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s hard to really trust her after everything that happened between us. Even though I _know_ it’s all Adam’s fault, I…”

Yang watched her for a long moment, the defeat wrapped around her spine, the anger holding tension in her shoulders. The hopelessness in the crease of her brow. “C’mon,” she said, gesturing her towards campus. “This sounds like the kind of story that needs a drink.”

Ilia huffed out another bitter laugh. “Yeah. Or several.”

  
  


“He fucking did _not_ ,” Yang snarled, slamming her glass down on the table with such force that she would’ve spilled her drink everywhere - had she not finished it a few minutes ago. 

“Yeah,” Ilia sighed, sweeping her ponytail over her shoulder and playing with the ends of her hair between her fingers. “He knew that he was going to get arrested - the teachers were getting suspicious and the principal had already notified the police. So he’d convinced Blake to… well. Yeah.”

“Jesus, Ilia,” Yang sat back in her chair, signalling Robyn at the other end of the bar for another round. “That’s…”

“Fucking insane? Absolutely heartbreaking? Yeah,” Ilia said, tapping her finger on the counter as well as Robyn made her way over to them. She glanced at both of them, their heavy expressions, and left them to their own conversation. “I’ll never forget that one last glimpse over my shoulder as they handcuffed me. She was on the dance floor with him. Couldn’t even look at me.”

Yang took a long sip of her drink, a simple rum and coke, and buried her face in her hand as she swallowed, dropping her elbow onto the bar. Tried to process it all. “And you were in love with her… the whole time?”

Ilia hummed. “She was my best friend my entire life. In high school, something just… changed. I guess that’s how it goes, doesn’t it? I think Blake picked up on it right away. She’s always been observant like that. It’s like… she’s always known everything about me.”

“Do you think… she loved you too?”

Ilia frowned into the rim of her drink. “What was that quote, that _ex something_? An _ex almost_? That’s how it was for us. Adam came into the picture sometime a few months into our first year at high school and I just _knew_ he was bad news. But Blake had waved it all off, you know? She said I was just jealous because of how I felt about her - I’m still not sure if those were _her_ words, or if they were Adam’s lies. I believed them either way.”

“Is that why you’re hesitant to go after her now?” Yang asked astutely, studying Ilia carefully.

“What are you-?”

“You think it’s her choice to go back with Adam, don’t you?” Yang said.

Ilia’s grip tightened around her glass. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she growled, shooting Yang a dangerous look.

But she didn’t back down. “Look, I know I don’t know Blake like you do - not even close. But the fact that you haven’t tried to do more to go after her-”

Ilia grabbed Yang’s arm, yanked her in close. “If you’re even _suggesting_ that I don’t care about Blake, you’re _so_ fucking wrong.”

Yang jerked her arm away, twisting her wrist to break free of Ilia’s considerably strong grip. “That’s _not_ what I’m saying,” Yang bit back before running a hand through her hair to steady herself. She took another drink, carefully weighing how she’d continue with this. “But there has to be a reason why Blake chose to go back to Adam _now_ , after everything. Do you really think she’d abandon you again? Now?”

“I don’t _know_ , okay!” Ilia exclaimed, frustration and pain clearly searing through her words. “I really don’t, I - the only thing I can be sure of is that, when she’s really scared and backed into a corner, she keeps things to herself. She thinks she’s protecting the people she cares about, but it ends up hurting everyone else.” Ilia paused, and this time it was her turn to weigh her words. Took in a deep breath, “And she’s been doing it to you, too.”

Yang froze. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

Ilia sighed, heavy and resigned. “ _Hermes_? Iris? She’s hidden that from you this whole time, Yang. She could’ve told you about who she was, but she chose not to. She chose to keep that from you.”

It was like Ilia had whacked her over the head with a hollow tube, realization reverberating all the way down her spine. “Iris… she’s _Blake,_ ” Yang muttered to herself. Now that it was spelled out so plainly to her, she kicked herself for being so _dense_. It had been so goddamned obvious. 

“Okay. Alright,” she said loudly, mostly to herself, trying to keep on track with the more urgent task at hand. Making sure Blake was safe. “Even still, like, I’m _sure_ she had her reasons for not telling me who she was! The same way she has her reasons for leaving with-”

“ _Just_ -” Ilia said sharply, cutting her hand through the air. “Just stop, alright? Please, Yang.”

But Yang couldn’t help herself from pushing her further, trying to get her to see the rationality of the situation. “Ilia, _please._ If this guy is as dangerous as you say - or even more? We _can’t_ just let Blake stay with him - we _have_ to get her away to someplace safe until he can be dealt with.”

“He _was_ dealt with,” Ilia said, slamming a fist on the bar, rattling their glasses. “The police had him - easy. You’d think his stupid slip-up with his drug dealing shit would’ve been enough to keep him locked away, to give Blake and me a chance to rebuild our lives in peace - but not even fucking close. He weaseled his way out. And now he’s weaseled his way back into Blake’s arms. That was her choice.”

“There _has_ to be more going on that we don’t-”

“Enough!” Ilia yelled, glaring at her. “I don’t care anymore. Blake’s made her choice. And now she’s on her own.”

Yang stilled. Went deadly quiet. Rage bubbled in her veins, rippled tremors across her frame. “I refuse to accept that,” she said, voice low. “If you don’t want to help me, then go on and throw your own pity party. Maybe Pyrrha and Weiss will tuck you into their bed and tell you that you’re making the right choice. But I’m going to find Blake. And I don’t care what I have to do to make sure she’s safe.”

Yang downed the last of her drink, pushed off from her chair and headed for the parking lot. She slung her riding jacket over her shoulders, ignoring the way that Ilia called after her and slipped outside. The sun had just dipped under the horizon, bathing the world in highlights of oranges and pinks and purples. 

She tried not to think of the way that the purples reminded her of Iris - how she’d told her that her favourite flowers were the prettiest shade of deep purple. The image in her mind shifted to Blake typing over her keyboard, a small coy smile on her face as she watched Yang continually suffer through guess after guess. She’d never been able to figure out what they were in the end, and Iris - _Blake_ \- had never told her. 

And now she’d probably never know.

Shoving those thoughts from her mind, she focused instead on the way a crisp evening breeze of spring whipped playfully at the ends of her hair as she approached her bike, unlocking her side-carry compartment and pulled her helmet out. Settled it over her ears comfortably before snapping the visor shut. 

She had to get out of here. 

Ignoring the small voice in the back of her mind that whispered about mistakes and staying safe, Yang turned the key in the ignition and gunned the engine. As she pulled out of the parking lot, it started to rain, just a little - and a haze soon fell upon the world all around her.

Fitting.

She didn’t even know where she was going, where she was driving. She just _had to_. Her thoughts spun and spun and spun through her mind, replaying. Repeating. Everything from the last few hours - Blake’s fear, Ilia’s resignation. The hopelessness from both of them, just in different ways.

That _kiss_. The way she said goodbye.

Yang had only gotten a taste of Blake’s past from Ilia, but even that small tip of the iceberg haunted her. The things she’d had to go through, the abuse she’d suffered at the hands of _that man_ … it made her seethe. She gunned the engine as anger burned through her, thinking of nothing other than the ways she would make Adam hurt for the things he’d did.

The falling rain started to build in intensity as she drove, the reflections of the streetlights wavering and distorting as she sped through gathering puddles. Soon enough, Yang’s vision began to blur along with the downpour as she fought back tears of helpless rage. She _knew_ that she should pull over, give herself space to gather her emotions so that she could make it home safely. 

But she couldn’t stop. She _had_ to keep herself in motion, had to keep moving forward. Because if she stopped, she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from breaking down entirely. So she kept driving, despite knowing that she wouldn’t be able to outrun her tears for long.

When her tires started to lose traction against the asphalt, she didn’t even realize it until it was too late. The world tilted sideways as her bike slipped out from underneath her, narrowly skidding through an intersection. She careened over a berm, her bike twisting from her grip and crashing somewhere above her. And then- 

Black.


	9. waiting for sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had to find her. Whatever the cost.

Soft beeping bled into her awareness first. Yang blinked, turned her head - tried to - and a groan forced its way out of her lungs. Her head felt so _heavy._ Everything felt so heavy. Gods. What the hell had happened? The last thing she had remembered was Ilia, fighting with Ilia… and Blake-

Blake walking away with that red-haired man. That’s what her and Ilia had been fighting about. Was that right?

The soft beeping continued. It hadn’t stopped since she’d opened her eyes - and it took her a lot longer than she would ever admit to realize that she was in a hospital bed. That she was _back_ in a hospital bed.

“Oh, _come on_ ,” Yang growled, the words feeling scratchy in her throat from disuse. How long had she been out?

“So, you’re awake,” Tai’s voice said from Yang’s bedside.

She turned her head, a little more successfully this time, and faced a very familiar sight. It was almost de ja vu. Almost. “Hey, at least I have both arms this time,” she joked, lifting her right arm towards him. It almost looked foreign underneath the hospital gown - the same way her missing arm had after the accident.

“That isn’t funny, Yang,” Tai snapped and Yang faltered. She didn’t think he would be _this_ mad. At least, not right away. “ _None_ of this is funny.”

“Dad, I-”

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he cut her off, glaring at her with anger in his eyes. And something else. Fear. Pain. And… were those tears? “The doctors told me that you were intoxicated at the time of your accident! Haven’t you learned _anything_?”

Yang frowned as she raised the upper half of her bed so she could prop herself up. She avoided Tai’s eyes. Right. She’d had a few drinks with Ilia - before they started arguing, anyway. Then the last part of what he’d said caught her attention. “Learned _anything_? From what, who? You? Summer? It feels like you’ve both been sheltering me for my entire life!”

“With very good reasons! Jesus, Yang! You’re lucky you only made it out of there with a couple of cracked ribs and a concussion,” Tai said, slamming a fist down against the railing of Yang’s bed. 

Tai’s words suddenly brought Yang a sharp clarity to the state she was in for the first time since waking up. A dull ache throbbed at her head - but it was no match for the spikes of pain that dug into her chest, making each inhale deeply discomforting.

Even still, she folded her arms as if she was refusing him the acknowledgement of her injuries. “That’s the second time you’ve said something like that, y’know,” she said derisively. “That you’re just trying to protect me, like you’re trying to keep me tucked safely away. And look how well _that_ turned out last time.”

For a moment, it looked like Tai was going to stand up and leave. Instead, he just shook his head and grimaced as he sagged against the back of his chair. In a split second, it looked like the weight of the world had collapsed onto his chest. 

Good. Now they could both know how it felt not to breathe.

“Well?” 

“Seeing you here, laying on another goddamned hospital bed…,” he buried his face in his palm, rubbing tiredly at his forehead. “It brings back so many painful memories, that’s all.”

Yang barked out a short laugh. Pushed past the clawing pain in her chest. “That’s it, huh?” she said bitterly. “You act like _you’re_ the one who lost your arm _and_ your mother in the same fucking night.”

“None of this has been easy on me either, Yang,” he said, looking over at her through splayed fingers. “After that night, I had to fight just to keep everything together so I could look after you, the family. I had to step up and be strong for us. Make sure we all stayed together - because I couldn’t let myself fail again. If Summer hadn’t been there with us…”

Yang knew that she shouldn’t’ve been angry at him - he was _here_. Same way as he’d been last time. But it felt selfish all over again and Yang couldn’t handle it. Last time, he kept Raven’s death from her because he thought he was protecting her. This time, he was just making it all about himself. His mistakes. Where he went wrong. “Spare me the fucking pity party, dad,” Yang spat out, balling up the thin hospital sheets in her fist. “Honestly, I thought you were going to yell at me more for the stupid mistake I made. This is even worse.”

Again, he didn’t answer her right away. He sighed heavily, took her comments without a single word of protest. “Do you want to know why we kept you from drinking?” he finally said.

Yang shot him a glare as she scoffed. “You mean besides Raven being a fucking alcoholic apparently? Something you and Summer kept from me for four years?” She paused. Shook her head. “My _entire_ life?”

“It was always _my_ choice to keep that information from you,” Tai said, suddenly adamant, like defending Summer was the only worthwhile thing in that moment. “Summer had wanted to tell you, she thought it would be best if you knew so you could make your own decisions… but, after I told her the real reason Raven started drinking at all, she agreed to keep it hidden from you.”

Yang groaned again, slumping against the hospital bed and wished she could just disappear into it. She wasn’t sure she could handle anymore dramatic reveals right now. Even still, curiosity unfortunately got the better of her and she cracked an eye open as she glanced over at Tai. “The _real_ reason?” 

“When you were really little, I approached Raven with the question of having another kid,” he started, folding his hands together in his lap. As he continued, he didn’t look up at Yang, just stared intently at his interlocked fingers. “She told me almost immediately that she didn’t want to have another baby, that raising you was hectic enough.”

“Yeah. Sure. That sounds like Raven alright,” she muttered, rolling her eyes even as discomfort wormed inside her gut, a feeling of dread rising with it. She didn’t like where Tai was going with all of this. Didn’t want to think about where the end of this path led.

His shoulders tensed as he took in a deep breath, as if preparing himself. “You have to understand, Yang. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t regret my actions and the decisions I made. Everything that had happened after, Raven’s downward spiral, her drinking…”

“You cheated on her, didn’t you? With Summer.” It wasn’t hard for Yang to put the pieces together. But the words still burned like acid coating her tongue as she said them.

He nodded, resigned. Ashamed. “It almost tore our family apart. I think that it _would_ have - if it hadn’t been for Summer. She held everything together. I think she was the real reason that Raven stuck around, in the end.”

“Yeah, because she wouldn’t have ever stuck around for her fucking kid, would she?” Yang snarled, just barely holding on. When would this fucking nightmare just _end_ already?

“Yang,” Tai leaned forward, reaching out to rest a hand on her arm. Her prosthetic. With her muted sensory input, it was almost like his hand wasn't even there. As long as she didn't look at it. _Good_ . It was better that way. “She _did_ love you. In her own way. She was so proud of you - she always made sure that she was at every one of your kickboxing matches and tournaments-”

Yang hissed, tugging her arm away from Tai’s touch. “Let me guess,” Yang said, every muscle in her body coiling from the truth that was just breaths away from being spoken. “She was drunk that night too, wasn’t she?” 

“Yang-”

“Yeah, it wasn’t really the ice that made the car spin out of control, was it? It was her,” she said, collapsing even further, down and down until it was so very dark. She hadn’t _wanted_ to say it, but there was some part of her that had known ever since Tai had told her that Raven was an alcoholic on New Year’s Eve. But with everything else going on that night… it had all been way too much.

“It was my fault,” Tai began, like _that_ would calm the tempest inside Yang’s soul. As if he thought that, by giving her someone to target her grief and rage onto, she would feel better. But it was all misplaced blame. And she didn’t want to blame _anyone_ anymore. She just wanted it all to stop. “I knew she’d had a few drinks that night, but I let her get in the driver’s seat anyway. She’d told me that she was fine, if I had been more insistent-”

“Dad, just… stop, alright?” Yang sighed, glancing across the room, anywhere else so she didn’t have to look at him. “I’m really tired, okay? Can you just… leave me alone for a bit?”

A moment of quiet. Yang didn’t bother to look back to see the emotions on his face. Didn’t want to see _any_ of it anymore. “Sure, yeah. Of course, kiddo. I’ll tell the others to give you some time.”

She kept her gaze trained on some shitty piece of hospital art hanging crookedly on the wall as she listened to Tai walk away and shut the door. 

The sudden silence rang terribly loud in her ears as she found herself alone with her thoughts, everything she had tried to push back ever since she’d woken up in the bed. No. Ever since she’d gotten into that fight with Ilia.

Scratch that. Ever since Blake found her in the garden, scared and shaking and oh so desperate. 

Yang felt a wave of self-loathing wash over her. Tai was right. What had she been _thinking_? What was getting drunk and driving around aimlessly supposed to do to help Blake? She should’ve tried harder to calm Ilia down, should’ve done more to get in contact with Blake - she had her number! She had-

Iris’ email.

Yang glanced over to the bedside table where the hospital staff had left her personal effects, phone included. If Adam was as dangerous as Ilia had said - more so, even, given the way that Blake had shaken from terror within Yang’s arms - then contacting Blake directly through a phonecall or text probably would put her in even _more_ danger. 

But if someone else contacted Blake… someone that Blake didn’t _exactly_ know personally, then maybe she could escape Adam’s notice. Maybe then….

Just as the threads started to weave together into a cohesive idea, the door to her room _burst_ open, letting in a flood of sounds and colours.

“Ma’am, please excuse me, but-”

“Excuse _me_! The visiting hours are clearly stated and they are _not_ over yet! And as such, we are _allowed_ to be here, thank you very much!”

“We promise we won't overstay, we’ve just all been very worried, you understand.”

Yang blinked in shock as her friends, shepherded from behind by Summer and Ruby, squeezed past the on-duty nurse and piled into the room. Weiss was busy arguing sternly with the nurse, stopping _just shy_ of sticking an actual finger in her chest in reprimand. 

“Wh- you guys,” Yang gaped, her eyes bouncing around to catch everyone’s faces as quickly as possible. She spotted Ilia, Ren and Nora following behind Pyrrha as they surrounded Yang’s bed.

Pyrrha was the first to settle herself in the chair next to Yang’s bed, the one that Tai had vacated barely minutes ago. She reached over the bed railing and took Yang’s hand, giving her a comforting squeeze. “How have you been doing, Yang?”

Yang clung to her, just a little more tightly than she’d ever admit out loud - and for a moment, her chest felt lighter. Pyrrha always had that way about her, a soothing kind of gentleness that the whole world seemed to want to gravitate towards. “Gods, uh. Well. I-”

“Don’t you _dare_ say you’re _fine_ , you dunce,” Weiss said firmly, perching herself promptly atop Pyrrha’s lap. “You are _clearly_ not fine right now.”

“Gee, what gave it away,” she rolled her eyes, her head giving a particular bad throb at the motion. “Ouch,” she muttered weakly. “Even my own body doesn’t want me to be sarcastic and sassy right now.”

“Well, good! You should be _listening_ to it!” 

Yang chuckled quietly at Weiss’ high-strung antics. “It’s okay, Weiss. No one’s going to think less of you for being worried about one of your best friends.”

“No one said that you were my-” Weiss started indignantly.

“Can it, drama queen,” Nora chirruped from the back. “And quit hogging the stage!” She pushed her way through the rest of the group. “Robyn and Fiona are sorry they couldn’t be here, but they said to wish you a speedy recovery.”

Yang hummed as Nora hopped onto the end her bed and dangled her knees over the railing. She looked like some kind of halloween gargoyle in a pastel pink skirt. “Well, pass on my thanks to them then, please.”

Nora whipped out her phone and tapped for a moment on her screen. “Done!”

Weiss rolled her eyes and tsked under her breath. “How thoughtful.” 

Ruby finally rushed in for a hug, unable to wait any longer. “I’m so glad you’re okay, sis,” she cried into Yang’s hospital gown.

“Ow - I, Ruby, you’re… on my ribs,” Yang grunted, cupping the back of Ruby’s head all the same to return the embrace gingerly.

“Oh, _crap_ , Yang I’m-!” she stammered as she leaned back, sitting on Yang’s shins instead. Which was infinitely more comfortable, really.

“Don’t worry about it, Rubes,” Yang smiled reassuringly at her to cover a wince. “I’m really glad to see you. To see _all_ of you.” She looked around the room as they all smiled at her in relief - all except for Summer and Ilia. Neither seemed to be able to meet her eyes.

“We’re here to prove the universe wrong, remember?” Pyrrha said, leaning forward and tucking a stray strand of Yang’s hair behind her ear before settling her hand warmly on her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Nora grinned gently, resting her hand on Yang’s shin - the part that Ruby wasn’t sitting on, anyway. “We’re not going anywhere. Promise.”

Someone very official sounding cleared their throat from behind the small gathered herd. “Well unfortunately, that will have to be in the _metaphysical_ sense for the time being,” the nurse said, gesturing with her clipboard as she shook a small paper cup which rattled in her other hand. “Miss Xiao Long was supposed to receive her pain meds _ten minutes ago_.”

 _Oh._ That’s why everything in her chest and head felt like it was on fire. Alright. Good to know. “Thanks for stopping by you guys,” Yang said, ruffling Ruby’s hair. “Come by tomorrow, okay?”

“We’ll be sure to, dear,” Pyrrha said as she squeezed Yang’s shoulder before nudging Weiss from her lap. 

“Make sure you get _plenty_ of rest, understand?” Weiss said, pointing her finger at her for a brief moment. Then she softened, smiling a rare gentle smile. “Because we _all_ want to see you get better.”

“Take care, Yang!” Nora said, bouncing off of the bed and catapulting into Ren’s arms, who caught her easily while simultaneously giving Yang a slightly awkward thumbs up as a way of showing solidarity. 

As everyone filtered out of the room, Ruby leaned forward again and gave her another, much more gentle, hug. “See you in the morning, sis,” Ruby said, rubbing her nose against Yang’s in a little bunny kiss. “I hope you have a really good sleep!”

“Thanks Ruby,” Yang smiled, tapping her playfully on the tip of her nose in return. “Make sure to look after dad for me, okay? He’ll probably injure something if he tries to fix anything by himself.” 

Ruby laughed, nodding in agreement as she got up from the bed while the nurse came by and set the container with her painkillers and a bottle of water on her bedside table. She nodded pointedly at them and gave Yang a _look_ , and then swept out of the room.

Yang rolled her eyes, tossing back the pills and following them with a swift swig of water as Summer approached her bedside. She didn’t bother to sit down. Out of the corner of her eye, Yang could see that Ilia hadn’t left, still hanging back by the door. 

“Uh… hey, mom,” Yang tried, shifting herself up higher on her bed so she could meet Summer’s eyes a little easier without craning her neck.

It was a few long moments before she spoke, before she even met Yang’s eyes. That suffocating silence returned as Summer seemed to search for something to say. “I’m relieved that you’re safe, sweetheart,” she said. “We both are.”

 _Dad had a funny way of showing it_ , she couldn’t help but think. But the events over the past day were really starting to wear on her, so she just lifted a shoulder. “Yeah. It could’ve been a lot worse.”

Her eyes flickered over to Yang's right arm for a brief moment. "Yes, so it could have."

It was Yang's turn to fight for the right words to say. But what could she say? _I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up? I'm sorry I'm not the daughter you wanted?_

_I'm sorry that I remind you of her?_

So she just pressed her lips together in a thin frown and said nothing at all.

“Get some rest,” Summer said after another long moment of silence. Then she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of Yang’s head. “And we’ll see you in the morning, alright sweetheart?”

“Okay, mom,” she said quietly, her lips twitching in a sad sort of smile. “Love you.”

“I love you too, dear,” Summer said. “Sleep well.”

Yang watched her leave with a muted sadness pressing inwards against the edges of her mind. Would Summer and her ever be okay again after all of this? Or had the things she’d learned tonight irreversibly changed almost everything about the way she viewed her as the mother she never really had?

“Yang…,” Ilia had finally approached Yang, speaking the first word since she’d stepped into the room. The first word since their fight. She looked utterly distraught. Yang’s heart clenched in sympathy for her - she’d almost had as bad of a day as Yang. “I just wanted to say that I’m so _so_ sorry, I… if I hadn't yelled at you-”

Yang gestured Ilia down onto the chair, shaking her head slowly. “No. No it’s not your fault, alright? You can’t blame yourself for my actions - that’s not something you have control over. It was my choice to drive off like that. And it was stupid. But I’m okay. I’m not badly hurt, see?”

“But you were _right_ ,” Ilia said, tears springing to her eyes. “The whole time! The whole time you were just trying to convince me that Blake hadn’t abandoned me, but I was too stubborn, I… I couldn’t see the truth in what you were saying. I just… I never thought I would have to go through the pain of losing her again - not so soon after finding her again.”

Yang leaned forward, careful not to strain herself, and tucked Ilia against her chest gently. It was a little awkward, with the space and the barrier between, but Ilia seemed to rest against the comfort all the same. A long sigh escaped her lips as Yang continued on, “It’s going to be alright, Ilia. We’re going to find her and get her back.” Then, more to herself than anything, “She’s going to be okay. She has to be.”

Long after everyone had left, Yang found that she was unable to find sleep. Despite the fact that the painkillers had kicked in a short while ago, Yang still tossed and turned, a comfortable enough position to doze off in eluding her efforts. She held out for as long as she possibly could from looking at the clock, but eventually she made the conscious mistake of looking at her phone - the clock on the wall indiscernible through the dim light that filtered in through the hallway. 

Almost one in the morning.

_Fuck’s sake._

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to settle down, she decided to turn to distraction, hoping that maybe eventually her brain would shut itself down and she’d just fall asleep that way.

But with her phone in her hand, her mind really only turned to the one thing that had been on her mind the entire day. Finding Blake. Making sure she was safe.

She _really_ should’ve just been trying to rest, because she knew that she wouldn’t be of any help to anyone with the state that she was in, but she couldn’t shake the very tangible memory of Blake shaking in her arms. Staining her collar with her tears and begging for Yang’s forgiveness.

So she clicked on her email threads with Iris. And opened a blank message.

Her thumbs hovered over the letters on her phone screen as she debated how to word the email in such a way that wouldn’t arouse Adam’s suspicion, but would also alert to Blake that she wanted to help her and get her to somewhere safe. 

_Dear Iris,_

_I just wanted to kinda check in on you again. I hope that’s okay - I know this time of year is really busy with studying and you might feel like you need to get away from it all, like technology and everything so you can focus on your studies. But, y’know, I hope I don’t seem overbearing or anything by asking how you’re doing and if you’re okay._

_Finals have been pretty crazy for me too, it feels a little like I’m trapped by all this studying and like I’ve hit a wall kinda. I feel like I study better with friends sometimes, so if you ever need someone to study with, I could help you out if you’d like! Just let me know, alright? I’ll be here for you, whatever you need._

_Good luck on your exams!_

_Sunny_

That was subtle enough, right? She could only hope, as she hit send, that Adam hadn’t found out that Blake had created basically an entirely new online identity. And if he had her phone somehow, that he would dismiss the email as some kind of spam, hopefully giving Blake enough time to see it and respond with information as to her whereabouts.

But in the meantime, with that worry lifted from her chest even just a little, Yang burrowed back down into the covers and closed her eyes. Tried to get some sleep once more.

She felt like she had been sleeping for all of three seconds when her phone, clasped loosely in her hand, buzzed and lit up, displaying a notification. Yang jolted awake, rubbing sleep from her eyes, and squinted at her phone screen, waiting until she adjusted to the bright light. 

When she could finally focus on the screen properly, Yang couldn’t believe it. _Unread email from Hermes._

She checked the time. Only twenty-six minutes past one o’clock. Yikes, yeah. Not much sleep at all.

Pushing that to the side, she quickly propped herself up on her elbow, brushing her wild mane of partial bedhead away from her face so that she could read. And what she read chilled her to the core.

_I believe there has been a misunderstanding between us. Your concern is not necessary. We are not friends. This will be the last email between us._

_Farewell._

Every alarm bell and warning light went off in Yang’s mind, firing her body with adrenaline. That wasn’t Blake. That _wasn’t_ Blake.

Which meant that Adam had her phone, knew that she was Iris and that Yang was Sunny, and was most likely punishing her for it. 

Which meant that Yang had to do something. _Now_.

She was calling Nora before she could even think. Even at half past one, Nora still answered in three rings. “Yang? Everything okay?”

She didn’t waste a single breath. “Blake’s in trouble. How good are you at busting people out of hospitals?”

Nora just laughed. “Do you even _know_ who you’re talking to? Ren and I will be there in a flash.”

At this point, Yang wasn’t even surprised. It was _Nora_ after all. “Just _hurry_ ,” Yang whispered frantically, before hanging up. Then she quietly slipped out of bed, grabbed the overnight bag that Tai must’ve left there for her and went to get changed.

Eighteen minutes later, there was a soft tap at the window that separated Yang’s room from the main hallway. Duffle bag slung over her shoulder, Yang scurried to the window and pushed back the privacy curtain and nearly jumped out of her skin when she caught sight of Nora’s face pressed practically right up against the glass. 

“The _fuck,_ Nora,” Yang whispered emphatically as she opened the door a sliver so she could poke her head out. Since Nora and Ren were nonchalantly standing right in the middle of the hallway with no concerns, Yang _assumed_ that the coast was clear, but she still felt uncertain. After all, it wasn’t like _she_ had ever broken out of a hospital before she was supposed to be discharged.

Nora beckoned her all the way out. “C’mon, let’s go. Ren says we’re clear for the next few minutes. You got everything?”

Yang nodded, too concentrated on trying to shut the door to her room as quietly as possible to question the fact that Ren and Nora both seemed _way_ too comfortable with any of this. “Is there like, a side door or something for us to-?”

“Nope! Just follow Ren’s lead - and stay behind me.”

Yang followed behind them as they made their way silently through the hospital, back out to the sliding glass double doors of the main entrance. No one tried to stop them, no one asked them what they were doing. In fact, Yang didn’t see anyone at all - and before she knew it, they were outside and breaking into a jog over to Ren and Nora’s van.

“So. That was… surprisingly _a lot_ easier than I expected,” Yang said as she tossed her overnight bag onto the mattress in the back and hunkered down on the floor while Nora and Ren piled into the front seats. “Also I totally forgot that you guys actually live out of your van.”

“Well, of _course_ it was easy! Ren’s like, basically a ninja. He’s got like, smoke bombs and everything, it’s _totally_ cool,” Nora grinned back at her as she buckled up while Ren peeled out of the parking lot.

“As for the van,” he added on conversationally, like breaking his friends out of places was all in a day’s work. “It’s much more practical, as well as cost efficient.”

“Yeah, that checks out,” Yang rolled her eyes, grimacing slightly as a telltale twinge of pain made itself known at the base of her skull. 

“Oh, by the way. Here,” Nora said, tossing a bottle of pills behind her, followed by a small red kit that seemed to be stuffed with gauze and bandages. 

“Uh… where’d you get these?” Yang asked as she grabbed her water bottle from her bag and swallowed down a pill before tucking it, along with the small zippered pouch of bandages, back into her bag.

“Swiped them from storage on our way to your room,” she shrugged casually. “It’s just part of the routine at this point.”

The _breaking friends out of hospitals_ routine. Right. Well, she figured she should just be grateful and leave the questions for the situation at hand. “We need to figure out how to find Blake. The longer this all goes on-”

“If only we knew someone who could track an IP address or GPS or something,” Nora said, her tone growing serious again at the mention of Blake.

Yang frowned a little, biting her lip as she recalled something from a few months ago. “Didn’t Robyn mention like… _one_ time while we were hanging out at her place that she used to do, like, surveillance for the government or some shit?”

Realization dawned across Nora’s face. “Ren. Floor it.”

Ren hadn’t even fully parked the van before Yang was popping open the side door and hopping to the curb in front of Robyn and Fiona’s house. She sprinted up the short walkway and practically crashed into their front door, hammering her fists against it and smacking her palm against the doorbell a few times for good measure.

She didn’t even have time to call either of their names before the door flew open with force, nearly sending Yang toppling into their front entry. “What in the _hell_ is going on here, Xiao Long? It’s two in the morning, if someone isn’t dying-”

“It’s Blake, okay?” Yang said, barely catching her breath in hopes of steadying her racing heart. “It’s Blake, that abusive dickbag ex of hers, he’s found her - I just tried to email her, Iris - her account on _Hermes_ I mean-”

“Finally figured that out, did you?” Robyn said, unable to resist a dry jab even as she ushered Yang inside. “Also, is that Ren and Nora out there?”

“Yes it is, and _no_ I didn’t, Ilia had to tell me,” Yang said abruptly as she flung herself down on her usual couch as Fiona gestured for her other two escape artists to come inside. “Anyway, that doesn’t _matter_ right now-”

Robyn sat down beside her. “You said Blake was in trouble?”

“Yeah,” Yang handed her phone over to her, showing her the last communication that she’d had with ‘Blake’. “Adam has her phone and there’s no telling what he’ll do if he thought that Blake was trying to set up an escape with outside help.”

“So you’re saying we find this guy and bring him in?” Robyn said as Ren and Nora sat themselves down on the couch opposite from them, their shoes still on.

“No,” Yang said, her voice dark. Angry. Raw. “I’m saying we find Blake and do whatever it takes to make sure she gets home safe.”

Robyn pressed her lips together in grim acknowledgement. “Then let’s get to work,” she said, nodding her thanks to Fiona as she set Robyn’s laptop down on the coffee table in front of her before heading to the kitchen to make them all coffee. It was going to be a long night.

Three cups of caffeine later, Robyn narrowed in on a set of coordinates on her slightly-more-advanced-than-Google Maps surveillance system. “Got him,” she said vindictively, double clicking to zoom in closer.

Yang rushed out from the bathroom where she was halfway through rewrapping the bandages on her chest - at Nora’s insistence. “Where?” she demanded as she leaned against the kitchen table where Robyn had moved for a better workspace. 

“Looks like some cabin just on the outskirts of the city,” Robyn pointed, paying no mind to Yang’s half-undressed state. She zoomed in a little further, doing everything except for muttering _enhance_ under her breath, and let out a small hiss of air. “That place definitely has seen better days. Ilia did say something about him being a drug dealer though, could be one of his old hideouts.”

“How long will it take us to get there?” she asked.

“Well, at this time of night with little traffic, probably a half hour?” Robyn guessed.

“Except _you’re_ not going anywhere until you let me finish wrapping your ribs,” Nora said sternly, shoving on Yang shoulders and pushing her down onto a chair. Then she took a moment to look at Robyn’s screen, noting the distance as Robyn pointed out their current location in relation to the cabin. “Let me drive. I can make it fifteen.”

Nora only slowed down within the last five minutes of the drive, when Robyn said that they were approaching the dirt road turn off and everyone collectively decided that squealing tires and revving engines _weren’t_ the best way to approach the house if they were trying to be stealthy. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Nora asked as she shut off the engine. The whole vehicle ticked and hissed as if it was a great panting beast that had sprinted a long marathon.

“You guys wait here. I’m going in,” Yang said as she pulled up the hood of her sweater, tucking her long blonde hair inside so that she would be less visible in the darkness.

“Yang, you _can’t_ go in there. Not alone,” Robyn said, grabbing her arm just as Yang was about to pull open the side door.

“I _have_ to. If he thought he scared me off or something, then there might not be a chance that he’s expecting _anyone_ at all,” Yang said firmly, shaking her off. “It’ll be easier for me to go in alone and get in and out of there with Blake before he notices anything at all.”

“You don’t even know where she is in there!” Nora protested.

Yang popped the door open gently, sliding it back slowly on its rollers so that it didn’t make too much noise. Nora had parked a fair enough distance away from the house, and hidden them behind a grove of trees, but it was way better to be on the safe side. She pointed, “That light in the window there is probably a good place to start.”

“And if it’s a trap?” Fiona asked gravely.

Yang set her jaw resolutely as a cocktail of fear and adrenaline electrified her veins. “Give me fifteen minutes. If I don’t make it out of there with Blake in that time - or if you hear any sounds of struggle, _then_ you can come in after me.”

“And also call 911,” Ren said pointedly, ever logical. 

Yang nodded. “Yeah. And that.” Then she steadied herself with a deep breath. She took one last look at her friends in the van. “Just be ready for anything, alright?”

“Please be careful, Yang,” Nora said after her back as Yang turned and slowly started creeping her way towards the house.

The house where Blake’s abusive drug dealing ex-boyfriend was keeping her.

  
  


As Yang drew closer to the derelict cabin, she could see that the front door was hanging off its hinges. Disgust crawled over her skin, scratched at the back of her neck as she pressed her back up against the wall of the house, ducking to keep low underneath the grimy front window. They were dark, but Yang _really_ didn’t want to take any chances at all. She just wanted to find Blake and get her out of there.

Assuming she _did_ want to come with her. 

Yang shook herself, sternly dismissing that morbid thought. She knew what she’d seen while they were together. She knew what she’d _felt_. She knew what her instincts told her. 

Even if it came to a fight, she’d make _sure_ that Blake was safe.

She only had to find her first.

Since the front door was already hanging askew and propped open, Yang decided that that would be her best point of entry - even as everything inside of her screamed that everything felt so very _wrong_. She nudged her way past the door, pushing it open only another few inches so that it was enough for her to slip by and paused just inside the house so that her eyes could adjust to the gloom.

Fiona’s warning about it being a possible trap rang loudly inside her head. She forced it to the side with a nervous swallow. It didn’t matter anyway. She was here for Blake.

Just as Yang started to pick out the shapes of cloth covered furniture - a couch off to her left and, just further down the hall, almost out of sight, a dining table set - the light that she had seen through the window while approaching the house went out just down the hall.

Yang’s heart thundered as she held absolutely still for what felt like hours, straining her ears to catch any indication of movement or any other sounds in the house. 

Nothing but gurgling pipes. Maybe he had gone to sleep?

After several stretched moments, Yang decided to venture further into the house. With only the moonlight filtering dimly through the layer of dirt on the window panes, she moved cautiously, doing her best not to disturb anything. On the right, a rickety railing materialized out of the gloom, and Yang used that to steady herself so she could make her footsteps lighter on the hardwood floor.

She had only made it a few steps further into the house when darker black rectangular shape yawned just off to the right. A hallway. _That must lead to where that light was earlier,_ Yang thought to herself, heart quickening its pulse once more. 

Blake _had_ to be close.

Yang decided to throw caution to the winds, just a little bit, and she started to move through the house more urgently. All she had to do was find Blake and get out, and she was _close_ , Yang could just feel it, she-

Her foot hit something on the floor - something that rattled with a metallic sort of sound. And it was _loud_. 

“ _Shit_ ,” Yang hissed, ducking her head and squinting down at her feet, trying to make out what she had accidentally kicked across the floor.

A box of bullets. Rifle ammo.

Terror spread across her torso, freezing the air in her lungs. “Oh no…”

“Hello, Sunny,” a sinister voice twisted out from the blackness of the hallway. The light in the hallway flickered on and Yang came face to face with Adam for the first time. And he was pointing a hunting rifle right at her.

“Or should I call you _Yang_?” he sneered, advancing closer. 

Yang shuddered, unnerved but somehow not altogether unsurprised that he somehow knew her real name. But despite staring the barrel of his rifle in the face, Yang grounded herself. Fell into a familiar defensive stance. “ _Where_ is Blake,” she snarled. 

“Why, she’s home with me," Adam replied smoothly, gesturing into the hallway behind himself. Hip upper lip curled in disgust as he continued, “Where she _belongs_.”

“Bullshit!” Yang roared, stepping in _recklessly_ close, sweeping her arm up and over to knock his rifle aside, then executed a tight uppercut, cracking her other fist solidly against his jaw. He staggered against the wall. “She doesn’t _belong_ to you. She doesn’t belong to _anyone!”_

As Adam grunted in pain, momentarily dazed as he wiped blood from his nose, frantic pounding sounded from the door at the very end of the hall. “Yang?!”

“Blake!” Yang yelled, rushing past Adam and pressing her hands flat against the wood, feeling the vibrations of Blake’s desperate fists.

“You have to get out of here, please, he knew-!” Blake stopped knocking so she could speak quickly through the door.

“No fucking way, I am _not_ leaving without you,” Yang said resolutely, her hand searching for the knob so she could get the door open and get them both out of there.

Only to find that it had been wrenched clean off. He’d locked her in.

“You _are_ right about one thing, Yang,” Adam growled behind her, rifle once again levelled at her chest. “You _aren’t_ leaving.” He pulled back on the forestock of the gun, the mechanism sliding back and an empty shell casing spat out, clattered to the floor. She tried not to think of the reasons that he would’ve had to even reload in the first place.

Yang took advantage of his apparent flair for the dramatics and threw herself at Adam’s legs in a football tackle. Definitely not an approved move in a kickboxing match, but it took him by surprise all the same and sent the pair of them crashing into the dusty living room. 

Adam’s gun got knocked from his grip as he tried to catch his fall, and it skittered across the floor and under the dining table. Yang could see the butt of the gunstock just barely sticking out from the dust cloth that was draped over the table.

If she could just reach it-

A sudden splintering sort of crunch broke her focus and she whirled, looking for Adam’s next attack. But it wasn’t Adam - he had gotten caught up in the wreckage of one of those rotted dining chairs and looked a little dazed still. 

Getting clocked by a prizefighting kickboxer probably hadn’t helped either.

No, the godawful splintering sound was coming from the end of the hallway. Where Blake was _kicking her way through the door._

“Holy _shit_ , Blake,” Yang couldn’t help but gape despite the life-threatening situation they were all in.

“Yang, behind you!" Blake shouted, barely able to worm her body through the gap she'd made in the door, pointing off to Yang's left-

Before Yang had time to react to Blake's warning, Adam shoved her _hard_ , sending her crashing to the floor. She lifted her hands as best she could through the sudden dizziness in her head, waiting for another attack.

That miraculously didn't come.

Instead, he headed back down the hallway to where Blake had just managed to pull herself free of the splintered framework of the door.

"I didn't say you were allowed to leave, my love," he crooned at her, clicking his tongue disappointingly.

"I _won't_ listen to you anymore, Adam," Blake snarled, and Yang felt a surge of pride rise in her chest at the strength in her voice.

"I don't think you quite understand me. I'm not asking," he said, advancing on her.

Before Yang could react, before she could process what was happening, Adam had grabbed Blake by the shoulders and practically tossed her backwards through the air like a ragdoll. Yang watched, in sickening slow motion, as Blake stumbled, tried to catch herself-

-before being impaled through the stomach by the very splintered wreckage that had been her escape. 

Yang didn't remember thinking. She didn't remember moving. But all of the sudden, she'd found the gun from under the table and screamed, charging Adam with it like a baseball bat, not even realizing to waste time with the firing mechanism.

Adam, somehow, sidestepped her. Brought his knee up towards Yang's chest, the momentum from her charge driving his kneecap into her ribs. She lost her grip on the gun-turned-baseball bat as she felt another _crack_ within chest - another bone breaking from an already injured ribcage. Breath driven from her lungs, she scrabbled against the wall, fighting to remain upright.

Adam's hands were around her neck in an instant. "Do you understand, my love?" he asked Blake without ever looking away from Yang's face. "This is _your fault_. I wouldn't have to be doing this if you just behaved. If you just came home with me."

Yang felt him lean his full weight against her, pinning her body with his own. She struggled to breathe as his hands cinched tighter around her throat. Her limbs flailed uselessly, ineffectively battering against his body in a vain attempt to damage him. To no avail.

“After I’ve dealt with your _Sunny_ , we can put this behind us,” he said, his voice smooth palatable poison. “I’ll take care of you, my love. The way I always have.”

The edges of Yang’s vision started to grow fuzzy, then black. She felt her limbs slacken, her body slumping against the wall as she started to lose control. Everything would end. Here. 

A deafening _bang._ A hot splatter of _something_ against Yang’s cheek - and she dropped to the floor. A marionette with its strings cut. 

“Yang?! Yang! Please, oh gods no - please be okay, please _please_ -”

Distantly, Blake’s voice, pleading. Crying. Something _heavy_ and _warm_ was shoved off of her, replaced with the gentle cradle of impossibly fragile arms. 

Yang’s eyes blinked open, sluggishly reacting to reality. Her ribs _screamed_ with each breath, each minute movement. Each breath exhaled in a short wheeze. “Blake?” she said - _tried_ to say. It came out as a monosyllable groan. 

But it was enough to get Blake’s attention, her eyes snapping into Yang’s with a fierce clarity. “We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? We’ll get us somewhere safe.”

It was only then that Yang realized that Blake was bleeding all over her sweater, the wound in her abdomen an ugly gaping red hole. She lifted heavy arms around Blake’s waist, her hand coming away slick with the blood from the entry wound at her back. 

Feebly, she pushed at Blake’s shoulders, shaking her head when she felt Blake try to lift her, to carry her somewhere safe. “Help. They...,” Yang hissed through a windpipe that was slowly closing from the swelling.

“Yes, I’m going to get help,” Blake nodded, grimacing as she tried to slide her arms underneath Yang’s body once more. “But I’m getting you out of here first. Away from…” Yang saw Blake glance behind herself. A few short feet away, Adam’s body. 

Yang could only watch as Blake’s face paled, shock finally settling its way into her system like a heavy suffocating blanket. “Outside…,” Yang managed to get out before the world started to tilt sideways on her once more. “Coming…”

_In the van… be here soon…._

Then, finally, the trauma from the last forty-eight hours caught up to her. And she passed out yet again.

  
  


Yang came to, still in Blake’s arms. All around her, the clamouring chatter of voices saturated her senses. Overwhelming her. But above them all, the one that called to her the most-

“I had no choice, I swear… I had to - I _had_ to… he was going to kill her, I saw - he… had her, I - had to do _something_ … it was all my fault…”

Yang focused on the voice. Let it guide her back into consciousness. 

Above her, when she had finally managed to open her eyes, she could see Blake staring sightlessly ahead, mumbling apologies under her breath. Someone had come by and put a blanket over her shoulders - Yang’s gaze finally shifted sideways and caught sight of Fiona sitting nearby, not close enough to touch Blake, but enough to offer a reassuring presence.

It was then that Yang finally realized that they were back outside, laid out in the grass next to the van. Nora and Ren were hovering anxiously nearby, clutching the stolen mini kit of bandages. Robyn was a little further ways down by the road, seemingly arguing with a pair of police officers who had pulled up with their flashing red lights.

“ _F_ _uck_ ,” Yang said as emphatically as her bruised throat would allow. “I feel like I’ve been _shot_.”

Nora, Ren _and_ Fiona’s eyes all snapped over to her at those words. Okay, so. Maybe poor choice of phrasing. “ _Finally,_ you’re awake!” Nora said, dropping down onto her knees in the grass next to her. 

“Yeah, I… guess getting kicked in the chest with _already_ broken ribs will do that to you,” Yang muttered, immediately wincing from the stress that talking placed on both her ribs and her throat.

“Talking probably isn’t the best idea right now,” Fiona hushed gently as she reached out with the back of her hand and checked Blake’s skin, her temperature. “She’s going to be okay too. We managed to temporarily stop the bleeding with the bandages from the hospital, it’ll be enough until the ambulance gets here, anyway. Unfortunately for us, the police arrived first.”

Yang just gave an ever so slight nod as she leaned back into Blake’s lap carefully. She was still rocking slightly, her eyes still stared ahead - but her hands squeezed tightly against Yang’s shoulders. A reassurance. _I’m here_.

“...got as much out of her as we could, officers,” Robyn was saying as the police officers barged their way onto the scene. “She’s still very clearly in shock from having to kill someone in self-defence. We would appreciate-”

Fiona stood up just then, putting her tiny body menacingly between the officers and Blake and Yang on the ground. She stuck her palm flat against the larger guy’s chest, not intimidated in the slightest. “These two women have been through a great deal of pain tonight and need to be taken to the hospital as soon as the ambulance gets here. When they have had time to recover, _then_ I’m sure they’ll be happy to answer your questions.”

Robyn smirked as she stood by her wife, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she stared the officers down. “Until then, since we have already given you our statements, you two can go on ahead and do your actual jobs, like processing the crime scene. And leaving us the hell alone.”

Yang had managed to sit up on her own strength as Robyn knelt down beside her. She looked sympathetic as she helped arrange the blanket so that it draped over both Blake and Yang’s shoulders. “They were talking about a court date for you both to appear in a trial. Since…”

Yang shuddered, tucking herself against Blake’s side more firmly as she remembered the heavy warm weight of Adam’s lifeless body over her own. Blake’s shaking hands dropping the gun with a clatter. “Yeah,” she muttered, running her fingers through Blake’s hair, trying to pull her back into reality alongside her.  
  


Blake awoke to the feeling of soft sheets against her body. She bunched them in her fists, processing. Scratchy. Like they’d been over-laundered a thousand times. Just as she was trying to figure out what that could mean, a soft familiar voice drew her attention.

“...good that you guys could come, I’ve been so worried about her, Yang too, I just… didn’t know who else to call.”

_Ilia._

Tears almost immediately sprung out from her closed eyelids. Ilia was _here_ , she’d been waiting for her to wake up. Even after everything that had happened between them, she was _still_ here.

“Of course, love. We came as soon as you called.”

“We weren’t going to leave you alone to deal with any of this by yourself. Besides, they’re our friends too.”

“It just… it means a lot to me. That you’re both here,” Ilia said and, even though Blake was still dragging reality back into herself piece by damned piece, she knew her best friend’s voice well enough by now to catch the small note of bashfulness in her tone. 

“Wish I could say that I’m surprised by _that_ development,” Blake said, making them all jump and wheel around to her laying there on the bed. 

Ilia was the first one to recover, reaching out and gripping Blake’s hand tightly. And, Blake was right, a small blush still lingered high on her cheekbones. “Blake! Thank _gods_ you’re okay! We’ve all been so worried!”

Blake squeezed back, absently threading her fingers through Ilia’s as she looked around at Weiss and Pyrrha as they sat around her bedside in a little cluster. They all had the same kind of concerned look on their faces, but it was as if a slight current ran through them, shifting and electrifying. 

But when she realized that Yang wasn’t in the room with them - “Where is Yang? Is she okay, is she safe?”

Pyrrha nodded, taking the lead this time. She laid her hand on top of Ilia’s as it still tangled within Blake’s. “She’s doing just fine,” she reassured. “She’s in the next room, still sleeping. It’s been quite the day for her.”

“She _really_ wasn’t happy to be back in the hospital, that’s for sure,” Ilia huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head.

Blake’s heart stopped for a moment, a blip in the heart monitor. “ _Back_ -?” she tried to get out, before Ilia rushed to soothe her.

“Shit, I - I’m sorry, it was my fault, I shouldn’t have-”

“It was _hardly_ your fault,” Weiss snapped, stern. But when she laid her hand on Ilia’s shoulder, Blake saw nothing but comforting warmth radiating from her. “It was her choice to get on that stupid bike after having a few drinks-”

“She _what_?” Blake gaped, trying to prop herself up in bed so that she could see them better, study their reactions. 

“The important thing is that she’s _safe_ ,” Pyrrha reassured her again, squeezing her hand as Ilia reached over to the side of Blake’s bed and lifted the hydraulics for her so that Blake didn’t have to strain the stitches in her stomach and back. “As are you. The rest is just time. And healing.”

Blake breathed a little easier, dropping her hand absently to her waist over the sheets to feel at the ridges of her scar. The last one he would ever give her. She glanced around at Weiss, at Pyrrha. At Ilia. “We… we’re going to be okay. Right?”

Ilia smiled at her, took her hand within hers and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, like the rescued princesses from their childhood. A weak but hopeful sunrise flooded through the window, staining the room gold. “Yeah, Blake," she murmured gently. "Yeah, I think we are.”

It was around lunch time, while Blake was eating the one good thing on her hospital tray - a lime jello cup - that Yang burst into her room, shaking off the grip of a very disgruntled nurse. “Hey,” she said, a little out of breath as she tried to lean all _cool and casual_ against Blake’s doorframe. “Come here often?”

Blake rolled her eyes as the poor nurse behind Yang gave up, throwing his arms in the air. She scooted over gingerly and patted the small space next to her on the mattress. “Not as often as you, apparently,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Yang sheepishly shuffled into the room, rubbing at her neck in that endearingly adorable way of hers. She gingerly crawled into the bed beside Blake, slipping under the covers. “Yeah, I guess I’ve kinda been sorta reckless the past few days…,” she laughed awkwardly, the tail end of it trailing out in a weak coughing fit.

Blake put her arm around Yang’s shoulders, hardly daring to believe how easy it felt to have Yang settle into the crook of her shoulder like she’d lived there her entire life. She hummed. “I guess I’m just going to have to keep a close eye on you from now on, aren’t I?”

“Could get used to that, really,” Yang mumbled against her chest. Her breathing evened out quickly as Blake absently weaved and braided her fingers through Yang’s hair. As her scar throbbed dully at her side, she knew that healing was still a ways off. But as long as Yang was healing along with her, she knew that she’d be okay.

They _both_ would be.

  
  


A few days after they were both discharged from the hospital, Yang woke to Blake screaming beside her. She was upright in an instant, reaching over to steady her thrashing body. “Blake, sweetheart,” she called out gently, hoping to coax her from her nightmare softly.

At Yang’s touch at her shoulder, Blake’s eyes flew open, her breath coming in a great gasp as she shot upright. “ _Stay back_!” she whimpered, swatting limply at Yang’s hands. “ _Please,_ I-”

Yang kept her hands away, but continued to speak in a quiet soothing hush. “It’s alright, you’re safe now. It’s me, Yang, okay? You’re safe now,” Yang said, holding out her arms for Blake to collapse into when she was ready.

Blake’s eyes focused in on Yang’s face, drinking her in through the weak light of her threadbare curtains. She gripped at her blanket with tense fists for a long moment as the remnants of her nightmare skittered across her neck. Then she let out a sob and collapsed, her body slack with exhaustion in all forms of the word. “He keeps coming back,” she cried, burying her nose into Yang’s collarbone. “He _keeps coming back_. He… he won't just _leave_.”

Yang pressed a kiss to her forehead, cupping her hands softly around Blake’s jaw and framed her face in loving hands. “Well, neither am I,” Yang reassured her, nudging her forehead against Blake’s. “And when the day comes that he’s just a distant memory - when all of _this_ is behind us?” Yang slipped a hand down underneath Blake’s shirt, carefully tracing the stitches across her abdomen, the scar across her back. “I will _still_ be here. Right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Blake kissed her then, deeply. Tangled her fingers in Yang’s hair and tugged her in close, her nose sliding against Yang’s as she whimpered out a small sound of relief, of joy. She kissed her, deeply, because she knew that she wouldn’t have the words to properly convey exactly what she needed to, because the words had been built up in her chest for so long that they became lost in translation even within the depths of her own mind. She kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. 

Deeply. 

Because she survived. Because she was free. Because she _could_.

She fell back into Yang’s arms, against the support of her strong frame, brushing those kiss-swollen lips across Yang’s skin as she whispered the only reply she could. “I’m not going anywhere either. Not without you.”

  
  
  
  


The summer heat found Blake and Yang lounging in the deep end of the Rose-Xiao Long pool, folded arms propped up against the concrete, water streaming from their bodies and quickly evaporating against the high afternoon sun. Underneath the water, their ankles lazily twined around each other’s, twisting in and out along with the movement of the current below - courtesy of Ilia and Pyrrha constantly cannonballing into the water.

“If _either one_ of you degenerates lay a _hand_ on me-!” Weiss squawked as she scampered to the other side of the pool to avoid her dripping Loch Ness monster girlfriends. 

“C’mon, Weiss,” Ilia sing-songed, racing past Blake and Yang, her ponytail swinging wildly. “Aren’t you hot enough already?”

“Yes dear, listen to Ilia,” Pyrrha cajoled, hovering at the other side of the pool, effectively trapping Weiss with her arms held wide. “I think it’s about time you cooled down, just a little.”

Yang craned her neck as she heard Weiss shriek in protest. And then, a few seconds later, an absolutely gargantuanly resounding splash. There was silence for a few precious moments while they were underwater, but that was quickly broken as they all resurfaced to varying degrees of splutters and crows of triumph. 

“Just when I was about to get used to the silence,” Blake remarked dryly. 

Yang spied Nora and Ren through the glass walls of the sunroom as they slung their towels over their shoulders. “Well, I don’t think you’ll be getting any more peace and quiet any time soon,” she said, dunking herself back under the water for a moment to cool off again.

Blake followed suit, and Yang couldn’t help but stare at her and follow the pathways of the water droplets that streamed down her neck, her chest. Blake caught her eyes. “Do you… want to get out of here?” she asked, her intentions clear despite the way that her low voice slipped under the fresh shrieks from her friends, Nora almost drowning them all out.

Yang pressed in close, lifted one hand from the side of the pool so she could wrap her arm around Blake’s shoulder, tangle her fingers in her hair. She kissed her deeply, tasting desire on her lips. “ _Gods_ , yes.”

They forgot to say goodbye to their friends when the evening fell, too wrapped up in each other to care about anything else. Weiss had once teased them about being selfish - because escaping to Yang’s bedroom was something that happened more than once - but they were quick to turn it back around on her, reminding her of all the times she and Pyrrha and Ilia hadn’t been able to make it to a hang out because they were all _too sore to move_ the day after.

Weiss never bothered them again after being called out like that - though Ilia still liked to shoot them both kissy faces whenever she happened to notice them slipping off by themselves. Pyrrha, on the other hand, preferred a direct and to the point “ _Have fun you two!_ ” callout. Which, of course, made everyone in the vicinity blush. Aside from Nora. Nora was _shameless_.

Purple bled through the backyard as they cuddled on the deck swing while watching the sun set. Yang’s arm curled around Blake’s torso, absently resting over the newly-healed scar on Blake’s abdomen. The stitches had come out, both front and back, just a few days ago - hence the pool party earlier. “You never ended up telling me,” Yang hummed absently, rubbing her thumb back and forth over the raised edge of the jagged scar tissue.

Blake nestled in against Yang, nuzzling her nose into the crook of her neck. Her skin was still warm from the shower, and it smelled like the citrus and honey body wash she liked to use. “Mm. What’s that?”

“Your favourite flower,” Yang said, kissing her hair and breathing her in, the scent of her lavender shampoo flooding her nostrils. “You probably got such a kick out of making me keep guessing.”

Blake giggled a little, shaking her head as she lifted her chin so she could kiss Yang’s cheek. “I thought it was rather ironic, actually. The answer was staring you in the face the entire time.”

Yang glanced down at her, confusion wrinkling at her forehead. “What-?”

“You know what?” Blake said as she stood and stretched for a long moment. “Instead of telling you, how would you like to go for a drive? I can show you.”

“My favourite girl in the world, riding on the back of my bike as the sun sets?” Yang grinned as she stood as well, tossling Blake’s hair. “As if I could say no to that!”

“Then c’mon,” Blake said, holding her hand out and tugging her gently along. “I know exactly where to find some.”

The sun was just gently dipping below the horizon as Yang took off towards the outskirts of the city. Blake guided her along from behind as she wrapped her arms around Yang’s waist, tucking herself securely against her back. The city seemed to glow around them as they took to the highway, speeding along through a kaleidoscope of oranges, pinks and the deepest of purples - on their way to find a field of wild irises.

**Author's Note:**

> Sami, my wonderful friend, cheerleader and partner in this whole endeavour was the artist who drew the heartmeltingly soft and beautiful fan art for this fic! Please pop on over to their socials and send them some love! <3
> 
> tumblr: https://perimorp.tumblr.com/  
> twitter: https://twitter.com/samantaesgay


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